Don't Look for What You're Not Willing to Give
by hueyfreemanrocksmyworld
Summary: Change? That was a regular thing for the Freemans. Screw that, a hourly thing that occurred for the Freeman clan. But how can one simple change, like unexpectedly switching to Wuncler Hills Academy in Huey's senior year and Riley's sophomore year turn their worlds upside down? And how will these new, snobby, rich students impact their friend group? HxJ Rx? MCx? Cx?
1. Welcome to Wuncler Hills Academy

**A/N: so, I downloaded the first two volumes of Boondocks comics on my kindle, and read them over and over and over. Then, I reread a bunch of high school fics, and even read one or two for the first time, and watched practically every Boondocks I could (including the banned ones, like Pause, The Uncle Ruckus Reality Show, and The Hunger Strike (watch them on youtube if you haven't yet)) just so I could write a good quality, dramatic high school fic. If you have any suggestions, then hit me up; I'm pretty much open to anything, and trying to go with the flow of whatever I wrote last, to make it what I'll write next. So yah, without further ado, I give you: **_**Don't Look for What You're Not Willing to Giv**_**e. Enjoy, bruh.**

**P.S. Kinda sorta new format. And I will tell you if it's someone's specific POV.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE BOONDOCKS, CHEERIOS**

Describe yourself in one word.

_Real nigga._

Real nigga is two words.

_I know. But real niggas don't follow instructions!_

_Riley Freeman, __German interviewer;__ It's a Black President, Huey Freeman_

_Two days before school starts._

_McWuncler's - Woodcrest, MA._

_Huey, Jazmine, Cindy, Caesar, Riley._

"Booo!" Riley yells, directed towards Huey.

"Yea, why you gotta be such a hater, McHater?" Cindy asks, adding on to Riley's comment.

"McWuncler's is DISGUSTING!" Huey insists. "Remember when you and Granddad accidentally dropped those McWuncler's fries in the backseat, and when he made us clean the car, they were still fresh?"

"So?" Caesar questions, not sure of what his point is.

"That means that they use so many chemicals, and process their fries so much, that months and months later, they can still smell the same, feel the same- everything. And you could still eat them... That's unnatural."

"Whateva, nigga," Cindy says, continuing to munch on her fries.

"I'm with C-Murph... Besides, if it did all that, then why didn't you use them instead of those nasty Cheerios and green beans when you thought the world was ending?" Riley comments.

"Ugh; don't remind me," Jazmine says, walking back to the table from throwing her fries away, after hearing Huey's statement on them.

"Bitch, you know-" Riley starts, and Huey kicks him under the table. "Mariah," Riley self-corrects himself, "you know that you were scared as HELL about all dat; listening to what Huey says and shit. I mean, did you not just throw out your fries _because_ of Huey's comment?"

Jazmine looks the other way while blushing. "No, I just was full," she poorly lies.

"Stop lying," Cindy says.

"It's real obvious, too," Riley adds on. Cindy and him make eye contact and nod with a devious smirk, before looking back at Jazmine.

"AND GET OFF HIS DICK, NIGGA!" Riley and Cindy scream in unison, catching the whole restaurant's attention.

"The fuck y'all looking at?" Cindy asks, using Ed Wuncler III's line, and everyone returns to minding their own business.

Caesar looks down to check his watch.

"Yo, we betta bounce soon," he suggests, and everyone else looks at their phone for the time, followed by agreeing.

\\-_-/

_The night before school starts._

_Everyone's individual residences - Woodcrest, MA._

_Jazmine, Cindy._

"Cindy, I can't believe school's starting tomorrow..." Jazmine vents to Cindy over the phone.

"Me neither, Jazzy Fresh," Cindy replies.

The two had been best (female) friends since The Fundraiser a few years back. Then, both 10 years old, they would've never thought that their part time friendship would continue into high school; both girls now 17, in the 12th grade; Riley in 10th.

"You think we got a lot of new students?"

"I 'on't know, Jaz. I mean, it is a public school... we probably got at least 10. Riley probably got like 50, though, cuz he's in 10th grade. We don't get as much since it's our last year."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Girl, when am I not? I stay being correct... and you know it, too!"

Jazmine laughs at Cindy's response, before saying goodnight and hanging up.

"See ya tomorrow Cin'"

"See you whenever I decide to show up to school," Cindy jokes, referring to her skipping and cutting school or classes.

_Morning of the first day of school._

_J. Edgar Hoover High School - Woodcrest, MA_

_Riley's POV_

Damn. I can't wait for niggas to start hating; boy, I can't wait!

I already knew I was gonna be the hottest nigga in class - fuck dat, in the whole entire school - when I saw what McHater was wearing to school. Some black shirt and khakis, tryna be all basic and shit. I came out the house in my "Trust No One" t-shirt, which, of course, had a pic of the person who diagnosed Thuglife himself (plus actor, rapper, poet etc.) Tupac Amaru Shakur. One exception for sounding gay is when it comes to Pac; he will forever be the greatest. It also had a smaller picture of Biggie on it, being the whole East Coast West Coast beef.

On the bottom, I was wearing jeans, which I was sagging currently, even though I had my belt. But, hey, as I've been saying foreva: real niggas don't follow instructions.

I got out the car, and met C-Murph, Mariah, and the dread head at a nearby bench; Huey following right behind me. We were all supposed to arrive at the same time, and it looks like _they did_, at least; but Granddad with his old self is still driving us around, since he's too cheap to get Huey a car. But you know how we do... we run on CP time. Colored People time.

Once we met up at the bench, and Jazmine got on Huey's dick and everything, we started to head inside. Ima be straight up: I don't know how Huey's ass hasn't realized that Jazmine likes him already. Like the nigga all smart and shit, but he retarded when it comes to hoes. If I was Jazzy Fresh, I'da up and left his ass by now, and found some other random nigga; no homo.

But I was snapped out of my thoughts when Ed Wuncler Sr. stopped us at the door, and told us we were going to be attending his new school, or he'd make us all go broke and in-debt; for Huey and me, again.

Even Huey said yes, and with that, we were put on a van and sent to Wuncler Hills Academy, in the heart of Woodcrest, where some chigga named Hiro Otomo was supposed to be waiting for us.

When we pulled up at the new school, which we found out on the way there was a private school and we were all automatically accepted, we asked him why he did this.

"Let's just say I woke up one day and decided to be generous," he tells us, which we can all clearly tell is a lie.

"What's the real reason?" Caesar asks, and Ed Wuncler Sr. turns around.

"Look, the principle of that school said that a bunch of people were starting fights over you and all sorts of shit like that... apparently you're some good looking kids or whatever."

"Pause," I speak up, and he glares at me, before continuing.

"And the PTA board here wants some good looking kids here," he finishes, and we all look at him like he's cukoo for cocoa puffs.

"The school just opened today... and that doesn't even make sense, anyways... what's the real reason, Wuncler?" Huey asks, trying to find the real reasoning.

Ed pinches the bridge of his nose, and sighs.

"Just tell them, boss," his security guard persuades.

Ed pulls out his phone and hands it to me. It was a group message with every parent in Woodcrest (it's amazing what rich people can do with their phones... my group chats go up to like 30 max) asking them if they wanted to send their child here, to Wuncler Hills Academy, or WHA. And as I scroll down, I see all of our parents responding yes, and him telling every parent to give him the tuition money online.

Cindy looks over my shoulder, and shakes her head.

"Our parents fucked us up... they signed us up for this school, without even telling us," she informs Huey, Caesar and Jazmine.

As we get out the car, we see more vans pull up with security guards that look just like the one in the passenger seat of this van, next to Ed Wuncler.

"Looks like we're not the only ones," Jazmine says, pointing out the other kids - clearly out of the dress code that we learned about in the van - just like us.

We look up at the different signs while walking down the mat/rug, that was really just like a carpet because of the length, they laid down in front of the main entrance to the school. But the last one, right above the doors, catches my and Huey's attention the most.

_Excellence. For the Rich. _the banner, obviously designed by Ed Wuncler Sr. himself, reads.

"This some ol' bullshit," we say in unison, heading through the doors, at last, to meet with Hiro... whateva his last name was.

_First Day of School_

_Wuncler Hills Academy_

_Cindy's POV_

We walked in the school, and the first thing I saw was every bitch, every hoe, every whateva, all had on these uniforms; minus us and the people behind us. Some boy named Hiro met us near the door, and behind him, there was a line of students holding cards; like the personal drivers that have cards with the last names of people at the airport. Us and the people behind us were all lead to this big closet, which divided into two sections—boys and girls changing sections—by Hiro and the other hosts.

"Boo, this is hella gay!" Riley yells out in protest.

"GAY is OKAY!" Some boy calls out.

"Not for Young Reezy it ain't," Riley fires back, and the, possibly, gay boy looks appalled.

"Well for Ryan Dinkley it is. I'm Ryan Dinkley, and I am gay, and gay is okay!" the boy, I now know is named Ryan, responds.

"Awww great! Now you got me _literally _changing in here with some faggots. Just great!" Riley sarcastically complains.

"Look, man, chill. This is our job. You 'on't have to change in here… you can go to the bathroom and change in the stall or whatever," Hiro calms Riley, giving him more options.

"Well where da bathrooms at?" Riley asks, and I laugh a bit. That boy is just too much.

Hiro tosses different polo and pant combinations to the boys, and different polo and skirt combinations to the girls.

Our whole crew follows Hiro out to the hallway, backpacks and all, while the other hosts stay with the few that decided not to go to the _many_ bathrooms available in this school.

"Damn, the school's plumbing bill most be higher than Snoop Dogg and Wiz Khalifa combined!" I comment on the many water-related facilities, and the whole crew laughs.

"If that's how high the plumbing bill is, I'm interested to see how high the electric bill is!" Riley jokingly adds on.

"Shit, you right! No LED lights in this whole big ass place, yet a light bulb every single place they can fit one," Caesar piles on to the jokes.

Huey murmurs something to Jazmine that I can't exactly make out, and Jazzy begins to giggle.

"Aye, Jaz! What did McHater say?" I question, and she turns around. She looks to Huey to repeat himself, and he does so, willingly.

"I said, 'I wonder if the teachers will be as high as the bills that the Buddha heads are talking about, or as high as the Buddha heads themselves'," he tells us, referring to us as Buddha heads; as in being so chill because of a high, that you're like Buddha. To be honest, I love Buddha. I wanted to look into Buddhism, for various different reasons, but as soon as my parents were aware of me exploring it, they shut it down—real quick.

"Wow, McHater actually got a good joke in," Riley says, shaking his head in amazement.

"Not valid, though. I mean, we don't smoke, do we?" Caesar asks, already knowing that we don't; bringing out the incorrectness of Huey's point.

"That was real gay, my nigga. Cut that out," Riley half-scolds Caesar on him correcting Riley, and Caesar puts his hands up as if to say "I surrender".

We finally finish walking down the hall, and we land at the bathrooms closest to our homeroom; as requested.

"Thanks, my chigga," Riley thanks Hiro; now claiming him to be accepted in our crew.

"Anytime," Hiro replies, and with that, he's gone.

"We gotta change, quick," Huey informs us of the obvious, looking down at his watch. "We've got to get all of our schedules and things from the main office, and who knows how long that'll take," he continues, speaking of things the rest of us—or at least me—neglected to factor into… anything.

Without even debating about Huey's words, Riley included, we all head off into the bathrooms to change.

_8:55am, First Day of School_

_Women's Bathroom in the North Hallway of Wuncler Hills Academy_

_Jazmine's POV_

I was buttoning up the side of my skirt, which I know realized was really a skort. There was a part you zippered up, then a flap to pull across and button… _rather convenient_. I nod my head to myself, acknowledging my own thoughts.

I went out to Cindy, who was waiting for me, of course, and we checked ourselves in the mirror, after complimenting each other on our appearances.

Cindy was wearing a navy blue uniform skort, with a long sleeve light yellow shirt, that had "WHA" in the corner—logo style.

I, on the other hand, had a plaid skirt, consisting of a navy blue base, with white, green and yellow on top. I also had a short sleeve white polo on, with a navy blue quarter sweater on top of it; both of which had "WHA" just like Cindy's, and what seemed like everyone else's.

I kind of liked the uniform. At first I wanted to complain that I've never had a uniform before, but then I thought about it more and it became a new exciting thing to have! And it's not like it was ugly. Screw that, it was cute! _Extremely_ cute. Like as cute as Huey… okay so maybe not _as _cute, but pretty darn close. Let's just say that it was something I would wear on the weekends.

We went outside, and the boys looked like they had been waiting for centuries. Huey, of course, was scowling and pinching his nose while his eyes are closed, and as soon as he heard us exit the bathroom, his eyes were wide open.

"Damn, Huey! I saw that," Riley starts. "So, now, tell me: did you open your eyes because you were impatient, because you a super nigga and can hear things from miles away, or because you heard your bitch, Jaz, coming?"

"Jazmine's not a bitch, Riley. And if anything, she's not mine," it seemed like he tried to select his words carefully, but they still made me feel weird. Obviously, from his response, this was a sensitive topic, per say, but the final result of his words came out, well… a bit offensive, I guess. Yes, I do _think _I like Huey… but how do I know for sure? How can anyone know the like anyone for sure?

_**First Day of School**_

_**Main Office**_

_**Huey's POV**_

Sometimes, I truly wondered how I maintained such patience with a brother, or sibling in general—maybe even person in general—like Riley. He seems to always go that extra step to screw up what your subconscious wants you to do, or is making you do, gradually.

But that was behind the point now, I suppose. We were in the main office, trying to get all of our schedules before second period started. But apparently our wish was not going to be granted, based on the assistant's level of intelligence, and patience with teenagers.

"A nigga ain't got all day, bitch!" Riley complains.

"You better watch your mouth, young man," the assistant, Ms. Felkinheiner, warns Riley.

"I wish a bitch would tell my day one what to do," Cindy stands up for Riley. "You don't know nothing about us, hoe. And if I were you, I'd shut the _fuck_ up—right now."

"That's it—Vice Principal Reagan! Vice Principal Reagan!" she calls out for the principal, and heads towards his office door.

"Please don't tell me his first name is Ronald," I think out loud, and everyone begins to laugh—Riley laughing the most. Well, more like cracking up, I suppose.

"I wonder why she called the vice principal out instead of the principal," Caesar ponders out loud, and everyone nods their head in agreement, all sharing the same ponder.

"Ugh… of course he's not here…" Ms. Felkinheiner whines.

"Why not the principal?" Caesar asks her, and she glares at him.

"Principal Hasan! Mr. Hajjar?!" She calls out, and we all bust out laughing.

"Of course!" Riley exclaims, leading the lead. "You didn't wanna call the principal cuz the nigga's Arab."

"We must stand tall with our Arab brothers!" I call out, and Jazmine laughs head first in my chest, holding on to me with her left arm for support.

"As-salamu alaykum," Caesar says in a more serious tone than the ones Riley and I possessed, and we all laugh even harder.

"And peace be upon you as well," the man known as Principal Hasan Hajjar responds. "What seems to be the problem, Ms. Felkinheiner?" he asks in a calm manner.

"These children have quite the potty mouths, and refuse to cooperate, nor have patience," Ms. Felkinheiner complains to Principal Hajjar.

"What task were you trying to get them to do?" he asks.

"That hoe was tryna get us in trouble cuz she couldn't work the printer to print out our schedules," Cindy informs him.

"Here, allow me to," Principal Hajjar says, fixing the printer, and our schedules finally begin to print out.

"Thank you, Principal Hajjar," Caesar thanks him rather humbly and graciously.

"Nonsense… you know what, you kids seem like a good bunch. Call me Hasan. And make sure to contact me if anything is troubling you," he tells us, handing us each our own individual schedule.

"Thanks for looking out, brother," Riley says as we walk out, and begin to head to our classes; schedules in tact.

"Huey, let me see your schedule," Jazmine commands, taking my schedule out of my hand before I can even hand it to her as she had originally asked.

"Yay! We have English together right now!" She exclaims, still possessing what I would consider too much enthusiasm for a senior in high school—two months younger than me, us both 17.

"Why are you so excited about English? I mean, it's the only language you speak," I respond, and she frowns—looking like she's thinking of a comeback—then a small smirk begins to creep on her face.

"No, I've been taking Spanish since 9th grade, and a little French since last year," she replies, still smirking. "Of which we have both classes together… don't be such a downer, Freeman. Otherwise I'm switching out of your classes."

"Alright, alright…" I assure her, though her and I both know I'm going to fight a negative comment in somewhere.

"Much better… besides, I'm sure there's a bunch of other hot guys here," she says, taking my hand and pulling me to English, leaving a little blush on my face, and leaving me in thought.

_If there are a lot of horny guys here, then what if they just see Jazmine as a piece of meat, or another girl whose cherry they want to pop?_

_**Second Period of the First Day of School**_

_**Ms. Becker's Math Class**_

_**Riley's POV**_

Right now I was in math with this hussy of a teacher, and Cindy and Caesar. Even though I was in 10th grade, and they were in 12th, they had a nigga moving up in classes and shit cuz they said I was smart or whatever.

Right now, this hussy was teaching us calculus. Yep, this was definitely a class this nigga was gon' skip on the regular.

_**Cindy's POV**_

I couldn't believe this hoe of a teacher right now, Ms. Becker. Single ass mothafucka. She was all over every high school guy she could be over, especially Riley.

Aye, white chicks stay wanting the BBC.

"Is it just me, or is this teacher hella thirsty?" I ask Caesar in a whispering tone.

"Naw, it's not just you. She hella thirsty, and all over Riley… you think he know?" He responds, and I shrug my shoulders.

"Ima ask him now," I say, a bit louder.

"What is that, Ms. McPhearson? A question? Perhaps what the legal age is here in Woodcrest for sexual contact with a minor? Or was it something else?" Ms. Becker says, and the bell rings, but people still wait for my reaction.

I tried to hold in my breath, but I just couldn't anymore, and I busted out laughing.

"Yo, you's a desperate ass hoe, Ms. Becker! You really want Riley's BBC, don't you?"

"And how would you know that it's a BBC, Ms. McPhearson?"

"Same way you wanna know," I respond swiftly, lying. I had never done anything with Riley, but these heffas could think that I have for now.

"Would you like to go to the principal's office?"

"Would you like to get some counseling? Cuz I been there, done that. Hasan's a G. Besides; you can't do nothing to me. Class been out." And with that, I leave the classroom; Riley at my side and Caesar walking behind us, probably tryna get a girl's number or something. He holla's at anyone—telling us he like someone, but talking to every girl in the book.

"So was dat why she kept on bending down and shoving her ass in my face, checking on kids' work near me?" Riley asks in a rather naïve manner. I slowly nod yes, and he makes a disgusted face.

"For all that you know, I woulda thought you woulda been able to sense that she at least digged you in some type of way."

"Nigga, it's a teacher. Am I just supposed to come in thinking every teacher gon' love me? Cuz then I need to add that to my list of fags and hoes… everyone wanna get a piece of Young Reezy. Besides, that hoe nasty."

"Whatever you say, Riley."

"Exactly what I thought," he says in a kind of proud manner, but I can tell he just playing.

"That's her," some girl we walk by says to her friend, pointing at me. As if being able to read my thoughts, Riley grabs my arm, stopping me from busting a girl up. _Damn, I hate it when people point at me._

"I just wanna ask her what's up cuz obviously she like sticking her finger around or something… I 'on't even get the point of it."

"'Cin…" he tries to calm me down, but I begin to move my hand to see around Riley, and yell at this hoe.

"How you about to point at someone like dat, huh? It ain't like I ain't gon' feel your big 'ole nasty ass fingers pointing at me… staring ain't gon' help, either!" I yell the last part at the nosey people who slowed down or even stopped around us to see what was going on.

"What, she think she Black or something?" the friend asks, and they both make a petty laughing sound. This is when Riley moves forward, getting closer to the girls, and both begin to melt.

"Don't ever say that C-Murph ain't Black. I know that y'all ain't gonna understand it to the point I may understand it, but, bottom line: she not just another white girl who loves Black culture, but not its people, or another white person that try to act black so they can get away with saying 'nigga'. It's not like that with C-Murph, and y'all _best _remember that. Tell all your other little hoeish friends while you're at it."

"Whatever you want, sexy," the first girl, who had originally pointed at me, draws a line down Riley's chest, trying to trace his abs through the polo, until Riley flicks her hand off, and walks back to me.

"I guess that hoe just like to use that finger or something," Riley jokes, coming back to me, and I laugh a bit.

"She still bad as hell," Caesar says, catching up to us.

"Can you not start with your wet dreams this time? We're about to eat, and I don't want to lose my appetite again," Huey pleads, making us all laugh. Jazmine was right behind him. I guess they were both amongst the crowd that saw the conflict, and just caught up with us afterwards.

"That was a big crowd. I guess this is the most crowded hallway here," Jazmine comments, and we all agree. "So, I'm guessing your first class was just about as average or bad as ours was?" she adds on.

"Girl, I gotta tell you all about it right after I drop my shit in my locker for break. We had the thirstiest teacher, who was all over Riley… bending down to have her ass in front of him and everything… and he didn't even notice!" I bust out laughing.

"Here she go again…" Riley sighs, and all of us laugh, if not laughing already.

It's the moments like these I love the most. And I hope they won't be eliminated because of change this year, or because of the people at this school.

**_Break (Snack)_**

**_Cathy M. Moore Cafeteria_**

**_Huey's POV_**

Every major building or public area in this school is named after someone rich who gave money to the school... mhm. Cathy M. Moore cafeteria was where I was right now; probably just another citizen of Woodcrest who attended garden parties I didn't know about nor care to know about and/or attend. There are also spaces named after those who Ed Wuncler Sr. admired, such as Ronald Wilson Reagan (also known as the literal devil), J. Edgar Hoover, and Richard Nixon... also absolutely ridiculous.

I mean, you don't see my naming different parts of my locker after people in the Black Panther Party/Black Panther Party for Self Defense, do you? Exactly. So why does he have to put up messages of white privilege around a place for learning?

"So, these uniforms..." Caesar starts off, and we all sigh at the sight of them.

"Man, I just wanna go back to when niggas wasn't putting me in random outfits," Riley complains.

"That was hardly two hours ago, dumbass," Cindy insultingly responds.

"And in the two hours we've been here, I've already had to save your ass once," Riley fires back with a smirk. Sometimes, I don't get how they remain best friends, being all of their similarities. But they've made it work, and I can't judge them based on what I'm able to see about their relationship. There's more to life than the lens we see our surroundings with, if having the ability to use that lens as a tool at all.

"So you wanna know what Huey and I did for English class?" Jazmine asks rather excitedly.

"Why are you so excited, Jaz?" Caesar asks with confusion.

"Am not..." she argues, and he rolls his eyes. "Anyways, after Huey requested that he not take the course, and spoke the truth that the teacher, Mr. Murphy, couldn't understand, the teacher pulled out a dictionary and he would say the word he chose, asked Huey to spell it, then told him to give him the definition of the word. And by the end of class, Huey had got every word right, while others were just on their phones or telling other people in the school about how Huey was outsmarting Mr. Murphy. So since his dignity was shattered, Mr. Murphy ordered Huey to apologize to him for alleged tricks."

"And what did Huey's dumbass say?" Cindy asks, shaking her head in advance based on the expectation of another revolutionary quote from me; one you aren't supposed to say back to your teachers or advisors in such a way.

"I said 'I _refuse_ to succumb to the white man's conspiracy to brainwash me with eurocentrism'," I recite my statement perfectly. Everyone takes a second to process this, then busts out laughing.

"You'll always be a revolutionary, man. America's most wanted right here!" Riley jokes.

"Aye, you can kill a revolutionary, but you can't kill the revolution," Caesar adds on yet another true statement.

No matter how antisocial and anti-bullshit I may act, my friends were pretty damn good.


	2. Humble As Hell, Loud As Ever

**A/N: So I'm probably gonna combine the last chapter with the first but then again I'm always changing my mind so we'll see.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE BOONDOCKS, Gucci, Versace, Prada, Old Navy, Forever 21**

_In the past, Granddad has had complications with babysitters._

**Hi, Mr. Freeman! Bye, Mr. Freeman. Oh my God! What should we do today? Board games? Hula hooping? Hot wheels? Ooo! I know: maybe we can make s'mores! Tell ghost stories? Play hide-and-go-seek?**

Can we play cops and robbers?

_I wouldn't._

**Cops and robbers? Sounds like fun!.. Ahh!**

Bitch, this all you got? Three dollars and a prepaid cell phone, with fuckin' two minutes on it?!

_That landed us on "Don't Sit ' ". No teenager in the world would babysit us now._

_Huey Freeman, _Riley Freeman, **chatty teen girl babysitter; **_Home Alone_

_**The Freeman Residence**_

_**After School of the First Day of School**_

_**Huey's POV**_

We were now home alone, glad to be away from all the school oriented stuff… you know what? I won't even sugarcoat it. We were finally away from all the bullshit.

Well, at least the bullshit that the school carried.

Enough parents had complained that we wouldn't get homework on the first day of school, so now I was left with, what I considered, nothing to do. I started to walk upstairs and see what awaited for me.

Unfortunately, for me, that sight wasn't too pleasant.

"You could've at least locked the door!" I yell at Riley.

"And _you _coulda knocked!" he yells back at me, continuing to jerk off.

"Will you _please _take your hand off your penis for two seconds?!" I continue to yell at him in complete disbelief. Finally, he pulls up his freakin' pants.

"Nigga, either go out and find me a bitch to fuck, or remember to knock next time, so this don't happen again! I 'on't wanna deal with your gay ass, on top of Ryan and all the other gays at school that getting mad at me."

I can't believe I'm about to say this, being the circumstances and all, but I actually felt kind of bad. Although Riley wasn't as homophobic as other people, and sometimes, himself, portrayed him to be, he just wasn't down with a guy shoving their sexuality in his face. Shoot, he wasn't down with anyone of any sexuality shoving what or whom they like down his face—even if it was Riley himself.

I left the room abruptly, and headed on my way downstairs. I didn't bother to waste another second in the room, didn't bother to look to see if my laptop would cure my boredom, or if I had any unread books on my bookshelf.

Instead, I headed over to the library, and texted Caesar and Jazmine to meet me there. I assumed Jazmine would tell Cindy, too, so there was no point in asking her personally.

This is how we spent our time when we weren't in school; this is where we got all the laughs out; these are the last few moments we'll have before we head into college, and this last year at this stuck-up, rich ass high school better not take me away from my squad, as Cindy and Riley always called it.

I started to think more and more about what Riley had said, and I realized that, in all actuality, getting him a girlfriend might actually help him a lot. Being that we're all going to be leaving to college without him at the end of this year… he'll need someone to trust and spend his time with.

\\-_-/

_**Wuncler Hills Academy: Mr. Brown's History Class.**_

_**Second Period.**_

_**Second Day of School**_

_**Riley's POV**_

We had just started school, and a nigga was already sick of it. I was in history with Mr. Brown right now, and this whitey's last name was Brown, yet his skin was so bright it was blinding my eyes? Shoulda changed his last name…

But that was beside the point. I didn't even have to think about how Huey was feeling right now. We were doing American history—and yes, yet again, they moved a nigga up to 12th grade history—and this nigga Huey, with some help of Caesar, had what could be transferred into an essay for every word that Mr. Brown said.

"And we remember that by saying 'Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492'," Mr. Brown recited. This nigga was coo-coo for cocoa puffs.

"He didn't really mean to sail the ocean blue, though. He was so ignorant that he thought he had landed in India, yet we give him a national holiday," Caesar interjected.

"Well, you see, Michael—"

"Caesar, please," Ceez corrects Mr. Brown.

"You see, Michael," Mr. Brown begins, "the actual history of the holiday is that a group of Christian males was looking for a good role model for—"

"A good role model?" Huey questions in disbelief. "They may as well have looked at Ronald Reagan for the equivalent of Columbus, and how bad of a person he was. I mean, how can we just ignore what he and his men did to the indigenous people? It's in his letters to his apparent friends, after all—detailing how girls under 10 were in demand for sex. Why aren't we learning about how he and his men raped, murdered, and divided the indigenous people until there were none? How can we sit around, and pretend like Columbus and his men didn't cut off indigenous people's body parts, and make them wear them around their necks, to signal to others the punishment that was to come? Or how they had dogs feast on their limbs while they were still alive? We can't just ignore all that! We can't just dive into the history of the so-called 'New World' without hearing of the actual brutality that existed! And are we even gonna talk about the rich history of the Inca, Mayans, and all the other various peoples? Or are we just gonna sit around, and continue to get pushed around by the white man's conspiracy to brainwash colored America?"

"Well, uhh, Mr. Freeman," Mr. Brown tries to find a start. The bell rings shortly.

"Saved by the bell," Huey tells him, absolutely owning the bitch ass.

"Yo, Freeman, that was some gangsta shit," some White boy commented to Huey. He nods in acknowledgement. "You're in 12th grade, I assume," the boy keeps on talking.

"Yeah… who's asking?" Huey questions him. Caesar inches closer to see what's happening.

"No one. I'm Eric, by the way. I was just seeing if you know who that light skinned girl is, since she seemed to be all over you. Or Goldilocks over there," he says, pointing to Jazmine, then Cindy. Caesar inches closer yet again. I give him a nod to let him know he could proceed.

"They're kind of… how do I say… both on lockdown my other emotion hiding niggas," Caesar tell him, pointing to Huey and I. "Also known as these two desperate ass muthafuckas." To be honest, I didn't really get down with C-Murph like that. But if it was gonna protect her from practically getting raped by niggas, then shit—tell 'em that I have wet dreams every night about her and masturbate to pictures of her. After a while, a nigga gotta suck it up for his day one.

"As in, like, taken? Or..?" this thirsty ass boy continues to ask us. Thank goodness, Jazzy's desperate ass self always gotta be on Huey's dick, otherwise we would've not got out of that situation.

"Come on, Huey! We have to get to our next class!" She whines, pulling his hand. Cindy comes over and does the same thing to me, just without the whiny dialogue. She calls Ceez to follow, and he does so, but not before staring down Eric.

This nigga musta caught some jealousy.

"So, who was the wigga?" Cindy asks me.

"Some kid name Eric who wanted to get in your and Jazzy's panties," I respond calmly.

"Oh, word?" She asks for confirmation. I nod my head and she begins to walk the other way, towards Eric. She taps him as soon as she's in arm's reach, and he turns around, with a special kind of… pervy, per say, smirk on his face.

"So, who sent you my way, sexy?" I make out the words he's saying to Cindy. With no time to waste, she smacks him upside the head.

"Don't be saying stuff about me; don't think I'm just another random hoe in this bitch! And don't mention me to any other muthafuckas you know. Aiight?" Cindy yells, getting in homeboy's face. That, I actually heard. Cin' begins to run down the hallway to catch up with us.

"You see those titties shaking?" A random guy comments close to me, and I stare him down. I was so done with these rich ass pervs, and it was only a nigga's second day in school.

Thank the lord I didn't have to tell her myself, and Cin' heard him herself… he also received a stare down.

Now that the whole crew was caught up, we headed off to our lockers, which were hella close to each other. Immediately, I noticed signs up on the locker left of mine, which spread, a bit, to my own locker. Some other nigga came from another direction, and began to shake his head. I walked a little faster to give a salute to him, cuz I'm pretty sure the faggots who put the signs up there, meant to put it on my locker, and not his…

And yes, a salute. Real niggas don't follow instructions, so why'd you think real niggas would apologize?

"Eyy, man, they probably meant to put these signs on my locker and not yours—you can just ignore them," I tell him, struggling not to use the word 'sorry'.

"Nah, they were for me. All I did was tell Ryan Dinkley and the gays to not shove their sexuality in my face. It's not like I'm completely against them or nothing—I just don't understand why I gotta know about why you're attracted to another man's nuts. Know what I mean?" the Black boy, who looks about my age, replies.

"Yeah, I feel you, man. No homo," I say with a small smirk. "Yesterday, in the overall changing rooms, Ryan did his whole gay is okay thing. Like I get the memo, I just… don't like changing in front of everyone. But that can't be respected 'cause as soon as there's someone in the bitch that's another sexuality besides straight, then you get called a whatever phobe."

"Exactly! So… you in what? 11th grade?"

"Nah, I'm in 10th. They got a nigga in practically all 12th grade classes, though. Name's Riley Freeman, but I got a bunch of aliases, like: Escobar, Reezy or Young Reezy, Pillsbury Doughboy, Louis Rich, H.R. Paper Stacks, Horse Choker—all that shit. You can just stick with Riley or Reezy for now, though."

"Alright, man, I get you. I'm in 10th, too. Name's Kai. Kai Wilson-Patterson."

"And what's the story behind that name?"

"My last name? Mom got remarried when I was like, two, and changed my name. Don't know who my real pops is, and step pops is still… let's just say I got mixed emotions for that nigga. What about your parents?"

"They not here," I explain to him, looking down at the ground. "They died when we still lived in Chicago, instead of Whitesville, when I was little. My brother Huey and I are raised by our Granddad now, who's frankly fucking up all the cash we woulda ever been able to get our hands on," I say with a laugh, and refocus my eye contact. He laughs as well, and a mutual feeling rises in the air, I'm not sure what feeling specifically, though. We stop laughing, and Cindy shows up to get me for my next class.

"Ima catch you later," I tell Kai.

"Aiight, son. See you around," he responds.

"And who was that, Reez? He was fine! I mean, hazel eyes, that perfect medium brown skin, hair cut and groomed… I mean, he's doing something right, you gotta admit. He not as fine as y'all, 'cause you, Caesar, and Huey are pretty up there, but he's hella close," Cindy chatters all about.

"Cin', you do realize that you just called myself, my brother, and Ceez fine, right?"

"So? Y'all are my day ones. Well, not really Huey, but you get what I mean. We're crew. We're squad. Whatever the hell you wanna call it, it's another grouping, just like family. And y'all frankly look nice. So either take the damn compliment or none will follow."

"Damn, aiight, girl. I need a compliment every once in a while… don't take that away!" I joke. C-Murph's always been one to make me laugh to limits I never knew I could reach.

_**Lori M. Fields Gymnasium**_

_**Last Period**_

_**Cindy's POV**_

The next few classes were a breeze. Well, not _literally _a breeze, in terms of difficulty and the material we're learning and shit, but look—tomorrow's the weekend, and the last class I have today is mufuckin' P.E.

How much simpler could my shit get?

When we arrived at the gym—which is, yet again, named for some random, rich broad—the dyke of a coach threw us our uniforms, and sent us off into the gender divided locker rooms to change.

The whole squad was in here, which made it all the better. I only had one class without anyone in the squad, and that didn't occur until Tuesday, thank goodness. It would give me some time to get used to this rich ass school. Even in my home, no matter how much I front and brag in public as jokes, I was the most humble.

My mom got nothing but Gucci, Versace and Prada and I'm straight chilling with my Old Navy sweatpants and Forever 21 basic tee. People could straight shop for clothes out of my parents' walk-in closet, and when they tried to hook me up with the same kind of walk-in, I told 'em I was fine with my small closet.

That's the thing I don't get about my _genetic _people. They always feel the need to flaunt and show how much money they making; how much comes in their salary, and what their house is worth.

But enough of them.

I got random bitches looking at me while I finish changing right now. And I can only imagine how Reez feels, with random niggas looking at him as he changes into his, probably equally equivalent, tacky ass uniforms.

"Will you hurry up?" I ask Jazzy.

"Alright, alright," she half shoos me off. "I'm done."

We get out there, and before we can even officially meet up with the boys, we're told to run 10 laps.

"Bruh, they can't do this to us!" Caesar's ass already complains. He didn't have the same struggle, of sorts, Jazmine and I had.

"Cindy, I didn't wear a sports bra today!" Jazmine complains to me.

"And you think I did?" I sarcastically ask her.

"More to enjoy for us," Riley jokes, and the boys laugh. I flick him on the forehead, though I know he's not down with the whole predator thing towards women, and that he's really just a little boy at heart.

**A/N: so yah. I'm ending it there. I don't know when the next update is gonna be but I thank y'all for sticking with me through this process. And hopefully the next chapter will be longer, I just wanted to make sure I got something out to y'all. I definitely wanna get stuff out by Thursday, though, 'cause that's my birthday, and shoot—I wanna go into a new year of my life with some positivity lol.**


	3. The Black Waitress

**A/N: soooo fam wassup? It's been a hot sec… more like a burned to ashes and ashes have traveled around the world sunk into the bottom of the ocean and faded away second (sorry if you misunderstand my corniness in the statement before these parenthesis). But anyways lemme just start typing…**

**P.S. GO TO MY PROFILE RIGHT NOW BEFORE YOU EVEN BEGIN TO READ THIS AND CLICK ON THE LINK FOR THE PAGE ON MY TUMBLR W/ JUST FANFICTION STUFF! THERE, YOU WILL FIND A MAP OF WHA, THE SCHOOL IN THIS FIC. OFF OF THE LINK, I'VE ALSO STATED ALL THE OC'S I'M PLANNING TO USE IN MY PROFILE, UNDER THE SECTION ON "DON'T LOOK FOR WHAT YOU'RE NOT WILLING TO GIVE". IF YOU IGNORE THIS, I'M TELLING YOU RIGHT NOW, YOU WILL BE CONFUSED THE HELL OUT, BECAUSE I WON'T BE EXPLAINING EACH AND EVERY PERSON OR DETAIL OR CLASSROOM OR WHATEVER IN THIS FIC. HENSE THEM BEING CREATED AND PUBLISHED **_**ELSEWHERE**_**.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own **_**The Boondocks**_**, Cantu**

_The Dubois Residence_

_Saturday, September 12__th_

_11:29 am_

_Jazmine's POV:_

I was currently smothering my hair in Cantu.

"Jazzy Fresh, how long you gon' take doing your hair?" Cindy asked me in amazement.

"I'm working on it, alright? At least I didn't plan to go out in my pajamas!" I shoot back at her. Cindy had walked down the block in her out-of-season blue and white snowflake pajama pants and New York Yankees t-shirt that had more bleach stains on it than the navy blue base itself, might I add.

"Whatchu mean? Now you _know _my snowflake pants are _the _most fresh to death pants you done ever seen around these streets," Cindy argues with me, raising her head up high, obviously proud of her self-proclaimed title.

"Whatever," I reply, looking in the mirror as I twist my hair up into a high bun. "Andddd… done!" I exclaim.

"That only took about 10 seconds," Cindy remarks sarcastically, and I laugh some. We were wearing basically the same thing, Cindy and I. We each had a WHA crewneck sweater on; hers a light yellow and mine a bleach white. And Capri length black leggings. Her hair was in a sloppy low braid, and mine in a slightly less sloppy bun. The plan was to go with Caesar, Huey, and Riley a few blocks down and do, really whatever, in Uptown Woodcrest. At least that's where all of the franchise stores were.

But, first, we had to go over to the Freeman house to meet them there.

"Honeyyyy! Huey, Riley, and Michael are here!" my dad calls up to me. So, maybe we didn't have to go over and meet them there…

_Timid Deer Lane  
Saturday, September 12__th_

_11:35 am_

_Caesar's POV:_

I took a few steps back from the doorway and out onto the street. I hated when people called me, "Michael" instead of, "Caesar", but Tom is a good guy who's gone through divorce and still raised his kid… stereotypically, not many Black fathers do that. And I know how it feels to be raised by a single mother, always looking for a male role model, because you are a male yourself. Yet, still feeling the pain of being poor and feeling bad for your mom because she has to raise you and your siblings all alone.

I know first hand.

My mom, when I was 11 years old—

"Wassup boi?" Cindy asks, stepping out of Jazmine's house. Thank goodness. I wasn't really trying to get into my sob story, into the worst point in my life, at all. The best point of my life was right in front of me. My close friends, and one of them, in particular, perhaps—

"Ceez, you okay?" Jazmine questions, opening my eyes with her fingers like a little kid would do to their parents.

"Yeah, I'm from BK! How could I _not _be fine?"

"Well," Riley starts.

"Rhetorical question, smart ass," I death stare him, and he chuckles.

I was so focused on my _unfinished _thoughts that I hadn't even noticed that we were only a few feet away from our first destination—Iron Hill Brewery. And, no, we're not sneaking in, as they have food and drinks alike for the younger crowd. We walk in, and there's no line to wait to be seated. We're being taken to our table—a booth, on Huey's request—when we're stopped by a random stranger; a White man who looks like a mixture of a 60 year old and the devil himself. I can see the conservative, racist flames in his eyes, but also a coat of concealment to his opinions.

"I see you two are wearing Wuncler Hills Academy apparel. Miss McPhearson and Miss Dubois, correct?" he talks to the girls, acting like us Black boys aren't here. Cindy and Jazmine nod their heads yes in answer to his question.

"And Mr. Caesar, Mr. Freeman, and the younger Mr. Freeman… not as school spirited, ay?" Huey glares at him, hard.

"I'm afraid not, Vice Principal Reagan," he responds.

"Well, I'll let you kiddos run off now. And we _do _have the rest of the school year to get you in the Wuncler Hills Academy spirit."

The waitress proceeds on, now, and seats us at our booth, only four tables away from Reagan.

"Now how the _fuck _did you know it was him, Huey?" Riley questions his brother.

"Who else would've looked like a spawn of Satan _and _known our names?" Huey remarks sarcastically.

"I 'on't get how you do all that ninja shit," Cindy adds, shaking her head in confusion.

"I don't think he understands it himself," I laugh, in an effort to change Cindy's mood for the better. She still sighs, and _fuck _I feel like I just failed at life because of it.

"Do you guys know what you'd like to drink?" the waitress asks. Shit, I forgot she was there; I was so busy on making sure that—

"Yea, y'all still got that cherry sprite?" Riley asks, interrupting my thoughts for the _umpteenth _time today. The waitress nods her head. "Okay then we'll all get that, 'cept for the nigga with the afro right there," he points to his brother. "He's gonna want water with lemon, light on the ice. And that bitch right there with the green eyes," he points to Jazzy. "She's gonna want a raspberry lemonade. And she gonna want a lemon, but never asks for one cuz she thinks it's cute to take Huey's." Riley finishes up, shaking his head at Jazmine.

Huey smacks him in the back of the head, before mouthing a, "thank you" to the waitress, who rushes away from our table like she was running away from an exploding building.

"I bet you five bucks we're gonna get the one black waitress they got up in here," I say to the table.

"Per usual," Huey agrees.

"Well maybe if McHater just didn't smack me in the back of the head for once…" Riley mumbles away, making sure to assign the blame to anyone but himself.

"You were the one who cursed twice while ordering our drinks!" Jazzy stands up for Huey.

"Pssshhh, you're only arguing with me cuz you in love with my brother. He gay anyway, I 'on't know _why _you tryna get with him like that," Riley chuckles at his own insults.

"You and I both know McHater ain't gay. He a hater, but he ain't gay. You can tell he lowkey likes it when Jazzy and all those other girls get up on him, falling head over heels in love with him. I mean, shit, you can't blame 'em, cuz Huey is fine _as fuck_, but you can tell he still likes the attention," Cindy analyzes the situation. Still, all of us notice how she complimented Huey in the midst of her small speech.

"Whatever." Riley closes the argument, thinking of something else to talk about. "In other news, why is this like the 10th time this week I've heard you call at least one of us hot, or fine, or some other word that mean the same thing, Cindy?"

"You mean a synonym?" Huey says plainly to his brother.

"Yea, that too. Thanks McHater," Riley plays it off. "Anyways, Cindy… my question?"

"Cuz you are!" Cindy yelled. "All of y'all. But don't take it any further than that. We friends, nothing more. Not tryna mess up my relationships with y'all, okay?" She responds with a slight laugh.

_Iron Hill Brewery_

_Saturday, September 12__th_

_12:14 pm_

_Huey's POV:_

I had seen it far too many times today to ignore it. Shoot, I had seen it far too many times _this week _to ignore it.

Caesar sighed after Cindy said she wasn't anything more than friends with any of us boys. He looked like he just got choked to death when he said something to try to lighten Cindy up, and she still sighed. When Jazmine forced open his eyes, it's clear that he had gone from thinking of something sad to thinking happily, just by hearing Cindy's voice. And earlier this week, when fuckboys upon more fuckboys were hitting on Cindy? The nigga almost lost it. It was clear to me that Ceez, well, liked Cindy.

Shoot, Caesar might even _love _Cindy.

And that, that alone, was a lot to think about. Especially being that over the years, I saw Cindy and Riley inching closer and closer together in their relationship. They still had their basketball buddy, ride or die Bonnie and Clyde, relationship… but something was _added _to it. You could tell by the way they'd put their heads in each others laps, how they acted to like each other for the sake of not getting harassed by people in school—but it didn't seem like acting. It felt _genuine_. And of course subconsciously I think everyone in our group knew it except for Jazmine knew it (because hey even after all these years she's still a _little _naïve). But Caesar didn't wanna address it because of his feelings towards Cindy, Cindy and Riley didn't want to address it because they both convinced themselves they were best friends, nothing more, nothing less, and were never _gonna _be. But it had to be addressed, one of these days.

I mean, with me pushing Riley to connect with a girl in Woodcrest before we all went off to college, leaving him alone… and rumors that were bound to be spreading already because of the lies of Riley and Cindy's relationship…

If we didn't address it soon, they _were, without a doubt _going to become something more than best friends. And if that happens, God if you're up there, we'll need all the help we can get.

"Sir, do you know what you want for your entrée? Sir? Excuse me, sir?" I hear someone ask, and I began to blink, coming out of my deep thoughts. I see Riley and Cindy looks at each other, giving mischievous nods, and am immediately scared at what's about to come.

"1-2-3," they say softly in unison, before, "MCHATER!"

"ARE YOU WOKE?" comes Cindy.

"WE GOT THE BLACK WAITRESS JUST LIKE WE THOUGHT WE WOULD!" Riley yells, then they start to speak in unison again.

"AND SHE BEEN WAITING, SO—" I launch forward and cover both of their mouths.

"I'm sorry, Blaire," I look at her nametag. "I'll just have the salmon caesar salad, with the dressing on the side. Please and thank you," I end, handing her my menu. "No problem… Huey, right?"

"Uh, yah, how'd you know?" I ask with a slight smirk. I guess Cindy was right; I kind of did subconsciously like this attention.

"My little sister Ciara goes to your school. Her and her best friend Amber, who practically _lives _at my house, we're rambling on about some cute guy named Huey who had beautiful eyes, a kinda sexy scowl, and a perfectly sized afro. So, kinda lucky guess," she said, winking at me.

"Well that's very nice," Jazmine tells her with the fakest smile of all fake smiles. She grabs my hand and squeezes it tight… I can feel her finger nails digging into my skin it hurts so much. Blaire, the only Black waitress in her who apparently has a stalker sister, and a stalker _practically _sister, walks away. Then, Jazmine finally releases my hand.

"Now young master Huey, what was that face for?" Ceez says, smirking at me, knowing exactly what it was. I mean, he _was _sitting to the other side of me. We had one of those half circle booths. The girls were at either end. Next to Jazmine was me, then Caesar, then Riley, then Cindy. I could tell Ceez was waiting for me to get another squeeze from Jazmine on account of him using the term, "young master."

"Oh, he just got a little hand pinch from me," Jazmine says with a smile. An _actual _smile, this time.

"Aye, that's what I'm saying!" Cindy reaches across the table to high-five Jaz on being possessive. God, what kind of world to we live in today, I think while shaking my head.

"Next thing you know, Ceez, young master Huey will be having fan clubs about him!" Riley adds on. More like what kind of _friends _do I have in the world we live in today, I think, preparing myself for another "hand pinch" as Jazmine called them. But instead, I felt a _claw _attack my crotch area through my black jeans. Which immediately earned a yelp from me. Ceez looked down to see what was happening, and broke out into laughter. Only two seconds later Riley and Cindy joined in on the laughing on account of my pain.

I see Blaire coming with a tray in the distance, giving me an opportunity to move on from the subject. Of course, if only Jazmine's _claw _moved. I mean, she wasn't attacking my privates anymore, but her hand was still on top of them, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Seemed like she had another trick up her sleeve.

"Who knew our food would get here in a shorter amount of time than our drinks," I joke as Blaire sets down the tray.

"Well, as soon as I put in word that the Freeman bros were here, the chefs couldn't _help _but to hurry," she details with yet another wink for me.

"Goodbye, youngsters," says Vice Principal Reagan, passing our table and leaving the restaurant.

"666," Cindy murmurs under her breath, and Riley and Ceez burst out into laughter again.

"Have a nice afternoon," Jazmine waves goodbye to him, using the hand that _isn't STILL _on where my penis should be bursting out of my pants by now. I thank that dumb therapist Granddad made me see when I was 13 about "sexuality issues", as he called them. Although I came in with Granddad telling Doctor Martin that I was gay and needed help coming out, I actually _came out with tips_, and too many lessons to list about self control around girls.

_Flashback…_

"Now, you see Huey, I think your problem is _resistance_," Dr. Martin tells me.

"Pardon my language, but I don't see how the _hell _resistance, of all things, could be my problem. I mean, I say what's on my mind. The only person I do _always _listen to is Granddad. I'm not _resisting _anything. I don't give a damn about anything that much that I'm struggling to _resist _it." Dr. Martin chuckles away at my comment.

"What I should've said is, Huey, I think resistance _will be _your problem in the future. I can see it now—tons and tons of girls lining up to get with you. Hmm… for an example, do you mind if I touch you? I mean, your clothes, really." I looked him up and down.

"You must wear heavy duty gloves," I tell him. He grabs an oven mitt and one of those instant heat pouches—two things I was unsure as to why a therapist would have in their office. He puts on the oven mitt, picks up the heat pouch, drops the heat pouch on my lap, then returns to his seat. I feel a bulge emerging in my pants… but, but… I've always been able to resist the temptation, that's never happened before…

Dr. Martin looks down and smirks. "_Now _do you see the problem with resistance?"

After a few more meetings and tips from him, my 13 year old self just felt violated by him, and concluded that he must be working for the government or something to know this much and to know my _problems_. I told Granddad about how he was "helping" me, which ended with Granddad cursing him out and remarking to me, "at least we know you're not gay now."

_End Flashback…_

Still, though I won't confront my feelings for a particular mixed girl with her hand on the jean fabric right above my nuts, I knew that the feelings existed in the first place because there was always a temptation about her… a temptation that I couldn't resist—despite all of my _training_, per say.

"So, we got the BBQ burger with fries for C-Murph," Blaire begins. During all of my thinking, I guess my friends all exchanged nicknames with her. "The loaded burger with extra hot sauce and baked mac n cheese for Reezy."

"Yea yea!" Riley exclaims with excitement.

"Brooklyn steak for Ceez and some cheese fries," Blaire continues.

"You know how BK do," Caesar jokes. I begin to laugh but soon stop once I realize that there's only one plate left on her tray, containing my food… what the _hell _did she do with Jazmine's?

"And, finally, the salmon caesar salad with dressing on the side for the beautiful, big Hue," she winks at me again.

"Where's Jazmine's food?" I ask.

"Whose food?" she leans close, only to realize Jazmine's hand _still _on my crotch area. "Didn't know it was like that, boo," she says, and winks at me _yet again_. This time, though, she adds a blowing kiss to the mix. I thought she would back off after seeing that… but it only made her try harder? I truly don't understand some women.

Just then Jazmine squeezes my area again, but gently this time, not _clawing the life out of it_ like before. I don't realize it immediately, but a moan escapes my mouth. Jazmine smirks at Blaire.

"_Your _food will be out shortly," she pretty much snarls at Jaz.

Cindy reaches across the table to Jaz just like she had sometime earlier to high-five her. "That's how we do!" She exclaims, and both the boys laugh with the girls. I just sit back, amazed at all my friends, and wait for Jazmine's food to come out before I start to eat my own food.

Man, this was gonna be a long and eventful year.


	4. Hidden Talents

**A/N: PLEASE NOTE THAT I have combined the first and second chapters of this fic, so the chapter I on New Year's Eve, "The Black Waitress," now comes up as the 3****rd**** chapter of this fic. So many of you have not read it, and have only read up to what's now chapter 2.**

**ALSO: checkout my fanfic page on Tumblr before reading this because I'm gonna be incorporating a lot of OC's and such this chapter. And quick answers to two questions I've gotten about this extra page.**

What have I put on my Tumblr fanfiction page?

**I've put two MAPS of the school in this fic, Wuncler Hills Academy (although they don't show up as large/expanded as I wanted them to), I put the SCHEDULES of Huey, Riley, Cindy, Caesar, and Jazmine, and lastly I've put a LIST OF OC'S and descriptions of them.**

Where can you access this page?

**The link in my profile ****_does not _****work, so the following is the link EXCEPT for the period marks which I've just replaced with, "dot": **hueyfreemanrocksmyworld.tumblr.com/ff

**So please go check that page out! It'll definitely help a lot in the future when reading this fic as a reference page/source.**

**P.S. I've been trying to cut my use of commas down, so if you think I missed a lot of commas just tell me. My history teacher always marks my papers for my overuse of commas so idk it might just be her.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ****_THE BOONDOCKS, _****"Who Shot Ya" by Biggie, best quality stickers **

**_Timid Deer Lane_**

**_7:35am_**

**_Huey's POV:_**

"Who drank the last of the goddamn orange juice?!" Granddad yells. "Was it you, Huey? Confess, boy!" He accusingly points a finger at me.

"No, Granddad. I drink herbal tea in the morning. I have been since I was 10," I assure him, calmly.

"So you're telling me that if I got a CSI worker in here and they swabbed the bottle for fingerprints, yours wouldn't be on here?" He questions me.

"I never touch your orange juice unless I need to get something out of the fridge that's behind the orange juice," I tell him plainly. He looks me up and down as if he's inspecting me to make sure that I'm not lying.

"Well go on, boy. I know your brother did it," he says, shaking his head. "RILEY! Come down here, nigga! It's time for your daily ass whooping!" I hear Riley stomping down the steps, frustrated that at age 15 he was _still _getting his ass beat everyday. "I'll make that _two_ ass whoopings if you don't hurry your ass up and stop stomping down _my _stairs," Granddad threatens. But Riley continues to walk the exact way he was walking before—not giving a flying fuck about what may happen to him as a consequence of his actions.

"What did I do this time?" Riley asks dryly.

"You drank all my goddamn orange juice," Granddad complains. Riley chuckles a bit.

"Yea, and it was good too, Granddad!" Riley breaks out into a full-out laugh. Only .2 seconds later, I here Granddad unfasten his belt, which is my cue to leave the house before Granddad can make up a reason for why I also need to be punished. Still, even after I close the front door, I can hear Riley yelping and Granddad lecturing him about drinking his orange juice through his screams. I see Jazmine leave out her house, closing the front door behind her in the same fashion I closed mine, and I meet her halfway in the street. Being the goody-two-shoes she is, she still looks both ways before crossing. But I know that this street is barely ever busy, and the chances of us getting hit with me being at 6'3" now and her at 5'9" were very unlikely. She grabs my hand then looks around a little.

"Where's Riley?" she asks.

"He'll be out in 3-2-1," I point my finger at my front door—perfect timing. Riley comes out rubbing his rear end, saying "that ain't hurt" while sucking up his tears, and mumbling curse words at Granddad. We go back to the sidewalk on my side of the street to meet up with Riley.

"Good morning, Riley!" Jazmine greets him excitedly.

"How you got _all that energy_ already, bitch? It's not even 8am yet!" He complains. I slap him on the back of the head for calling Jaz a bitch. "And how you already slapping niggas in the back of they heads before 8am?!" He groans with anger and confusion. We walk to the end of our block where Caesar meets up with us from the side street, Hollow Brook Road. We would wait for the bus here with some other random kids we didn't know all too well until Ruckus showed up and decided whether or not us niggas should be able to get on, or if we should be banned to our "natural habitat", as he called it. If he let us on, then we would go up a few more blocks to pick up Cindy and a few other kids. It's not exactly where the rich kids live, because all of Woodcrest is pretty damn rich, but most of the parents around Cindy's house thought they had the 1-up on everyone else in Woodcrest. That is, besides the Wuncler family.

Way less kids showed up to our bus stop then there used to be, I now realized. At J. Edgar Hoover High, there were _way _more students than at Wuncler Hills Academy. That's mostly because (since Woodcrest is part of a larger county) the county public school system was as follows: there were four elementary schools—Uptown, Downtown, East Haven (closest to the slums/ghetto), and Woodcrest. Then, Uptown and Woodcrest merged for middle school and East Haven and Downtown merged for another public middle school. Then, finally, in high school, all four smaller towns merged on the outskirts of Woodcrest for J. Edgar High School. That meant there were kids from all sorts of cultural and financial backgrounds alike, and even though there were hundreds and hundreds of kids in each grade—usually over a thousand in a graduating class—everyone found a group of friends there. Even if it was named after a horrible man, J. Edgar High became a lot of people's home away from home.

But that's not at all what I'm sensing at Wuncler Hills Academy.

And, furthermore, I don't think that our parents just replied, "yes" in a text message for us to go to this school. I think they knew in advance that there was a problem with our own high school, and sought out Ed Wuncler Sr. to have us transferred for a specific reason. Or maybe even _multiple _specific reasons. And our parents just didn't tell us because they were scared about how we'd react, or if we'd revolt.

And I'm going to get to the bottom of it. And I won't stop until Ed Wuncler Sr. himself tells me the real reason why.

"Huey! Huey?!" Jazmine calls my name, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Uncle Ruckus is here to bring us to school," she continues. She lets go of my hand, sighing, and walking onto the bus.

"You know the routine," Ruckus says to Caesar, Riley, and I. "The mulatto gal goes first, 'cause I know that the angelic, white half of her is overpowering the demonic, black half of her. And you three niggas, with your poisoning, darkly, black skin must recite something patriotic… well, as patriotic as a should-be slave can be."

"Are we doing light skins or dark skins first?" Caesar asks with all seriousness.

"Either way I'm in the middle, so," Riley shrugs off the question.

"I'll start," I offer. "Hmm… patriotic," I think out loud. "'Be peaceful, be courteous, obey the law, respect everyone; but if someone puts his hand on you, send him to the cemetery.' Malcolm X," I perfectly recite the quote.

"Malcolm X? Malcolm X?!" Ruckus questions me, astonished per usual. "Now, coon, tell me how the hell Malcolm X did some good for this beautiful, white nation? Huh? You _lazy_ nigga, can't even think of a patriotic quote."

"Well, how 'bout this," I begin, taking a few steps forward so that Ruckus can hear the soft words I'm about to say. "'Laziness is a trait in the Blacks.' Donald Trump," I look him dead center in his eyes.

"Now let us on the bus 'fore we drop a 'I don't give a fuck' Tupac Shakur," Riley threatens.

"Or a, 'who shot ya, separate the weak from the obsolete. Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets. It's on nigga, fuck all that bickering beef. I can hear the sweat trickling down your cheek. Your heartbeat sound like Sasquatch feet. Thundering, shaking the concrete'," Caesar throws in Biggie, his favorite Brooklyn rapper, to the mix while Riley makes the beat.

"Get on before I change my mind," Ruckus gives up. "And don't you touch them little white angels."And to that, Riley _literally _snarls as if he were a dog in Ruckus' face—making Ruckus gasp and immediately shut up for good.

We start to walk to the back of the bus. I used to tell myself not to sit in the back of the bus, because I'm Black and Blacks used to _have to _sit in the back of the bus during the Civil Rights Movement and before that, but as I grew older I gave it up. The back of the bus was where all the _magic _happened. All the truth or dare games, all the laughs, all the fun… I felt _welcome _in the back of the bus, not because (as Ruckus says) I'm a nigga, but because that's where all the good memories took place.

However, the walk to the back of the bus is always interesting.

We received who _knows _how many intriguing and attracted looks from girls on the bus, and a handful of jealous looks from guys the bus. One chick even reaches out and smacks Ceez in the ass. He turns around and gives her the biggest wink imaginable, before proceeding to sit down a few rows behind her in the back of the bus. I take a seat across from Jazmine, in the second to last row, while Ceez and Riley sit in the very back, long row, leaving room for Cindy. We do this so that Jazmine and I can lean out in the isle and here the conversation in the back.

"Weird, there's no emergency exit in the very back in this bus," Jazmine notices. "Only on the sides."

"Well, thanks for telling us that, Mariah," Riley starts, "now I'll now that if niggas come up on this bus tryna rob us, I can't escape quickly. Uh-uh-uh I mean," Riley stutters, putting his thug façade back on, "see them White kids escape quickly while I dab all over these niggas," Riley finishes, making the dance motion and all.

"Uh, pipe it up! Pipe it up!" Caesar throws in the perfect dab song. Riley, him, and even some of the White boys a few rows up joining in. I shake my head a little bit. It's all in good nature, but I don't want these new White kids at school to just appreciate us for the Black culture we bring on and share, not ourselves or other Black lives.

"Are those all your friends?" a girl with blue eyes, light brown hair, and a tan complexion a bit darker than mine asks. I do an analysis of her person. Mixed, definitely has a White dad but Black mom because her hair is just a little nappy, but mostly laid, probably our age although she looks a little naïve in the pink and purple (but who am I to judge—my best friend, Jazmine, wears all pink all the time).

"I'm afraid so," Jazmine responds with a giggle. "I'm Jazmine, what's your name?"

"I'm Amanda. Amanda Charleston," the girl I now know is Amanda replies.

"I'm Dubois. I mean like my last name is Dubois. Figured I should probably tell you since, you know, you threw in the last name and—I'm sorry, I'm horrible at first impressions," Jazmine babbles on, making loads of hand gestures as she goes. Amanda laughs, and assures her that it's fine.

I still wasn't over her not-so-quite naïve actions at the restaurant, Iron Hill Brewery, on Saturday. I mean, yes she _probably _was just trying to get the waitress, Blaire, to stop flirting with me. That's what she told me she was doing, and Caesar told me to trust "Jazzy Fresh" (as he calls her). Cindy started to laugh before receiving a hit on her left arm from Jazmine, and when I asked Riley about it, he said, "Hoes do what hoes do, and yes, yes I know that Jazmine's not a hoe, but that's ya problem right there. Tellin' a girl she's not a hoe will make her hoe-ld on to you. And yes, hoe-ld. Hold and hoe. Ya personal hoe that's always on you. Get with it, nigga!" And all of his _oh so wise _words didn't help me one way or another. I felt… needy having to ask everyone questions like that, or looking to them for insight. Usually I was the one who held all the knowledge and people would come to me… and while it was a kind of cocky feeling to get used to, I sure as hell got used to it.

I add this to the list of things to get over: Jazmine's crotch-hold, getting over my personal feelings, and moving to Wuncler Hills Academy. But I know I'll barely even get halfway done with _one _of these tasks.

I feel someone staring daggers into the back of my head, so I turn around slightly. And of course, it was the newly introduced mixed girl, Amanda Charleston. I, like Jazmine, was not so good with first impressions. But I, unlike Jazmine, did not _care _if someone didn't like me upon first glance. Or any glance, really.

"Amanda," I state her name and nod my head as to greet her. She lifts a curious eyebrow and turns to Jazmine for help. I can already sense that they're going to be each other's go-to's in arguments about race, and smirk at the thought.

"That's Huey. He's very nonchalant, as you can probably already tell and will see more of as time passes. But occasionally, every once in a while, you can get a smirk out of him," Jazmine explains. "Like now!" She grabs my face and moves across the isle so that she's now sitting next to me. While I'm a little irritated, I make no signs of protest because I know she's happy with her progress in this demonstration (after all, I usually cut her off short) and, to be honest, I don't mind her near me as much as I hate to admit that I do have a weakness. "And sometimes he'll call me a pet name, like, 'Jaz'… but I'm sure he could do that to everyone! Very rarely do you get a blush or color of some sort," Jazmine persists. I blush? Since when? Why have I not been informed of this before? "And about one out of one thousand times you get a smile. It's difficult to get to, and not that many people see it."

"Some more than others," Cindy says, making everyone aware of her presence as she goes to sit down in the middle of the long seat between Ceez and Riley. "I mean, y'all are best friends and all," Cindy continues, putting air quotations up around, "best friends." "But Jazzy, just _how _many times have you seen Huey's smile?"

"I uh-uh-umm… I wouldn't be able to count," Jazmine sighs in defeat, her cheeks turning the color of a tomato.

"You look like one of those best quality stickers," Amanda remarks. "Y'know, 'cause they're red in the middle, and have the yellow-goldish colors on the top and bottom? And you have that yellow shirt on, then your face is the color of a _tomato_, then your hair is yellowish, too."

"Girl, you are funny!" Cindy laughs, standing up slightly to give her a, "good job" pat on the back, and the rest of my friends just laugh. "But who are you?" Cindy takes no time in asking blunt, but relevant, questions.

"My name's Amanda Charleston. And can we do a role call of everyone's names?" she asks with a mischievous smirk. Looks like she already knows we know what she means, and has our group pretty down. I mean, I learned how to play role call back when Riley and I were still in Chicago—it was just something our parents taught us as babies from "back in the day."

Cindy volunteers to go first, and I take the time to look over everyone's uniform choices for today. Jazmine was sporting a short sleeve yellow collared shirt—as Amanda _so kindly _pointed out in her comparison earlier—and a plaid skirt. Cindy was wearing a navy blue collared shirt, Amanda a white; both wearing plaid skirts like Jazmine. I could already tell this was going to be a favorite among girls. Ceez, Riley, and I all had the same thing on as well: a short sleeve, collared, navy blue shirt and khaki pants. Riley and most other students didn't exactly favor a uniform, but I was fine with it. I just wish the boys had more pant options than navy blue and khakis, and that we didn't have this _obnoxious _"WHA" cursive, monogram-like logo in the corner of our shirts.

I'm brought back to life by my friends beginning to sing the song. "Cin-Cin-Cindy! Cin-Cin-Cin-Cindy! Rolecalllll! Cin-Cindy! Cin-Cin-Cin-Cindy! Rolecalllll!"

"My name is Cindy, yeah and I am skinny/But don't take it as weak, I have ya _cumming _at the highest peak!" Cindy makes sexual motions to go along with her _special _pronunciation. Of _course _she would be the first to bring up explicit topics like that.

"Ceez-Ceez-Caesar! Ceez-Ceez-Ceez-Caesar! Rolecalllll! Ceez-Caesar! Ceez-Ceez-Ceez-Caesar! Rolecalllll!"

"My name is Ceez, y'know you want some of deez/Not raised in Whitecrest, but in BK, ain't nobody gon' make that mistake!" Caesar, who can actually get into rapping, rhymes.

"Ri-Ri-Riley! Ri-Ri-Ri-Riley! Rolecalllll! Ri-Riley! Ri-Ri-Ri-Riley! Rolecalllll!" we all (save for Amanda) sing again.

"My name is Reezy, and I get ya hoe sleazy/Don't you cross me, don't you run/cuz I always come on top like LeBron!" Riley makes a lay-up shooting motion.

"Jaz-Jaz-Jazmine! Jaz-Jaz-Jaz-Jazmine! Rolecalllll! Jaz-Jazmine! Jaz-Jaz-Jaz-Jazmine! Rolecalllll!"

"My name is Jazzy Fresh, and you're a pest/So bothersome, thinking you're better, when I'm the best!" Jazmine's lyrics actually weren't that bad, but I knew she hadn't done a full rap immersion because of her proper grammar throughout. But I gulp, knowing that I'm the only person who hasn't gone, and therefore next. It wasn't like I didn't know _how _to rhyme—I mean, I grew up on the streets of Chicago—it's just I prefer not to unless I must, because I could _really _go without all these new White kids telling me how I'm gonna be the next Fetty Wap or DJ Khaled whatever rapper they're hype over now.

"Hue-Hue-Huey! Hue-Hue-Hue-Huey! Rolecalllll! Hue-Huey! Hue-Hue-Hue-Huey! Rolecalllll!"

"My name is Huey, nuttin' like that nigga Dewey/All those nappy dreads, they got me dead/Just how many girls he get in bed? He probably gay and giving head/Don't gotta wear some African shirts just to get in young girls' skirts/he probably a pedophile, like that pastor, did he think he really mastered/the art of getting faster, to cover things up before a disaster/Did he think he's getting out of jail? Now who the hell would bail/Poor little Timmy's family is crying, while all these Black people out here dyin'/let's get some of them in the system, rather do more than just diss them/not saying that sexual abuse isn't important, let's just get some more search warrants/on more people's lives, not just do they have allergic reactions and get hives/I wanna know, how much care do you show?/If I died right now on the floor, would you laugh and ask for more?/Need to know with who I'm ridin', so I can stop them all from tryin'/to tell people about my talent for rapping, or any other hidden talents, like dabbing," I finish off, making the motion and all. Throughout my whole verse, my friends were hyping me up and making dance motions to my rhymes. Riley even started to beat box along. After all, he was the one who signaled for me to continue to rap, because he was the only one who had ever heard me do so before. I had told Jazmine about this secret before, but…

"You never told me you were _that _good!" Jazmine exclaims, finishing my thought. "Like, Huey! Omigosh omigosh omigosh," She blends all her words together.

"Well, I mean, I _was _gonna go, but after _that_! Man, I don't think I could _ever _follow up to something like _that_!" Amanda adds to the hype. Caesar just gives me dap and nods his head in approval.

"I knew about his rapping," Riley attempts to brag, only to receive a smack in the back of the head from Cindy.

"Boiiii, why didn't you _tell _us then?" She shouts.

"Did you _not _just hear the nigga? He said he 'on't want anyone to know. You know McHater is gay with all his shit," Riley argues back, and Cindy gives in, knowing that if she didn't she would be a hypocrite because they do an equal amount of dissing me daily.

At first, I can't even lie, I did pay attention to what they said. But that was because I was _10 _when they started. And years later, I just _don't care_. Riley and Cindy diss everyone—shoot, you could even call them the Bonnie and Clyde of disses instead of crimes. And minus the romance part… at least I don't _think _that's gonna happen between them.

But _God_, my thoughts are still so disoriented since Saturday; or really since we've switched schools. I mean, I've always been one to talk back to teachers when I see fit, or if they're just ignorant. And I'm still keeping my calmness on my exterior, but… rapping, Huey? Really? How out of character is that for you?

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when the bus begins to slow down (but not as slow as it does at bus stops so I guess that means we're arriving at school). I look out the window and it confirms my thoughts.

"Come on Huey!" Jazmine declares, grabbing my hand, "We gotta get to our lockers, then homeroom, the Spanish, and—" I look to my side at her. "Sorry," she mouths.

"I'm sure Huey doesn't mind you talking, Jazzy," Ceez supports her with a smile; his first line in a while. Jazmine smiles in return.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind you sucking his dick either but I knows ya already got a plan for that," Riley throws in, laughing side by side with Cindy. We come to a complete stop, and Jazmine eagerly squeezes my hand. Oh _how _this girl loved school so much, I could never fathom. Especially _this _school of _all _schools.

We head off the bus and begin to walk through the same double doors as last week in the front entrance, and see the, "Excellence. For the rich" sign again. Amanda explains that she has to go to the Main Office to get her schedule reprinted because it has some errors, and we wished her luck with Ms. Felkinheiner, to which she laughed and said she was gonna need all the luck she could get with that lady. During this exchange Riley went off to go grab, "my nigga," as he said. He came back with a boy that looks about Riley and Caesar's height—so 6'1"—who has a brown paper bag complexion, green eyes, and a buzz-cut for his dark brown hair.

"This my nigga Kai. Kai, these my other niggas. Y'all all my niggas. Mi casa es tu casa, or whatever the hell they say in Spanish," Riley introduces us all.

"I saw you the other day!" Cindy connects memories. "I got _loads _of questions for you at lunch."

"Why not break?" Jazmine asks out of curiosity.

"Cuz that's when I got my questions for _Amanda_! Duh. Anyways, Ceez and I are gonna go ask Principal Hajjar a question.

"We are?" Caesar asks, and his question is completely ignored my the blonde at his side.

"I mean Hasan. That is what dude told us to call him, right?" Riley, Jazmine, and I nod yes in response. "Well, talk to y'all later then!" She waves goodbye, dragging Ceez along with her.

"Well, we should probably head to 9th and 10th grade homeroom, then," Kai walks off.

"Why we gotta be with them 9th grade niggas, too? Prolly won't even like _half _of our own grade," Riley complains, following behind him.

"It can't be _that _bad," Kai optimistically hopes aloud, before busting out into a laugh.

"I was about to ask, 'nigga is you forreal' but I'm glad that you wasn't serious," Riley joins in on the laugh.

But I have a strong feeling that by the end of homeroom Riley will be more infatuated with "hoes" from his grade and the grade below than irritated or irked.

**_Wuncler Hills Academy_**

**_Pre-Homeroom (7:50am)_**

**_Caesar's POV:_**

I was currently being dragged around the school by a particular blonde. Why? I have no idea, and she ignored every question after question I had about this expedition. But then I was suddenly pulled into a dark room and slender fingers that weren't my own were sealed across my mouth. A light flicked on and I saw that this was the same costume closet they had us in to change into uniforms on the first day of school.

"Hush, bruh! Look: I need to know this school in the back of my hand. If a bomber comes, then what classroom has the biggest windows to jump out of? If I wanna catch someone having some steamy school sex, then where should I look? If I wanna not be late or ditch class everyday like I'm planning to do, then what's the most efficient way to do so? If I wanna turn into complete Jazzy Fresh and _study_, then where's a quiet place? And many more questions that are to come. But, I'll already have the answers to all of them," Cindy rants. She takes my hand and I get the chills; my body shaking all over. "Dude, can you _not _have a mini-seizure right now?" She asks in both annoyance and humor, slightly grinning but her eyes still locked on the small crack she made in the door. "Okay, I see some video cameras but no teachers. And since we're tight with Hasan, and they're probably not looking through the footage that much unless someone's stealing or something, we're probably good to go," she analyzes the scene, taking my hand and (once again) dragging me to where she wants to go next.

We go down the science and language hallway, sharp left near my locker—where I see Huey and Jazmine talking, since their lockers are close to mine and next to each other's—and continue walking down the south wing of the school, dropping our bags near Cindy's locker. Then, Cindy suddenly comes to a halt. I realize she's panting.

"You good?" I ask her.

"Yeah," she says between breaths. "Just… why they gotta… make these hallways… so… long? Like… _damn_, a bitch gotta breathe… y'know? _And _there's barely any water fountains," she gets back to her normal speech, now checking the hallways for water fountains. "And _this _is why I need to know this school in the back of my hand. Let's go down The Ave, then sharp right so go to 11th and 12th grade homeroom, then let's walk down the North wing and cut a left so that we're back at the South wing, stop at our lockers and get our books, then turn right so that we're in the west wing and can go to Forensics with Mr. McFall."

"Sounds like a plan," I say. "But, hey—what's the ave?" Cindy laughs at my question.

"Boy, you really needa get in some rich kids conversation! Okay, so they're calling the connecting North/South hallway that's on the East side of the building, 'The Ave,' and they're calling the other connecting North/South hallway on the West side, 'The Walk'," Cindy explains. I start walking down what I now know is the Ave.

"Well, come on!" I joke with her, and she playfully pushes my shoulder.

"No PDA in the hallway!" I hear a voice call out, and I think we're in trouble. Over a _shoulder push_, though? No way. I turn around and see Huey and Jazmine walking behind us, Jazmine still holding his hand as she was 15 minutes before.

"You shouldn't be talking, Freeman," I reply, smirking. In the past, Jazzy usually lets go of Huey's hand or whatever_ other _body part she's holding—I think back to Saturday—but recently she's gotten more comfortable, at least just with our small group of friends.

"So what?" Jazmine dismisses the thought, "Love is love." Both her and Huey's cheeks redden, and Cindy busts out laughing.

"You got that right, Jazzy Fresh… you got that right," she says.

We turn the corner and step into our homeroom. I see only a few Black and brown kids, and wait, is that..? I think two or three Asians. But the rest of the kids are White. And I'm really, suddenly missing the racial diversity (and really all types of diversity) from J. Edgar Hoover High, no matter howmixed up it was.

"'Sup, Freeman? Caesar, my man? And you two _fine _lovely babes?" fuckboy Eric "brightens" our day. We all just nod our heads at him in acknowledgment of his presence, then walk further into the room and look for seats. "That's it, really? Well, I'll see you guys in history, then!" he shouts in displeasure. I had not forgotten our encounter on Friday after history, though, where he outwardly shared his rich and pervy thoughts. And while I didn't wanna make any enemies at this school, it being my senior year and all, I also wasn't just about to become best friends with dude.

I wondered how it was going for Riley, and if he was encountering any similar problems in his 9th and 10th grade homeroom.

**_Wuncler Hills Academy_**

**_Homeroom_**

**_Riley's POV:_**

I was currently walking around the room, viewing basic hoes on top of more basic hoes. But then, in the back of the room, I saw two corners—one with two Latina girls who were pretty hoes, and one with a white, blonde, blue-eyed girl, the two Black hoes who weren't pedestrian but had no interest in after their comments towards Cindy on the first day of school, and a Latina mega hoe.

Maybe Huey is right, and I should decrease my usage of the word, "hoe," because the last thing I need is to sound misogynistic just because I can't get my act together. I love women and always have, not in a predator type way or anything. But that's just how my mama raised me.

I approach the pretty, non-mega hoe corner; Kai following right behind.

"So, what ya names?" I ask them, then translate it to Spanish for the hell of it. "Or, como se llama, mamasitas?" I question with a smirk.

"_How _you figured out we were both Latina, I'll ask another time. But for now, you can just wait until attendance to figure out our names. Patience is key," the one with light brown eyes, light brown hair, _and _light caramel skin replies. Straight up if it wasn't for her good features she'd be looking like a caramel drop right now.

"Don't be silly, girl," the second one speaks up. She has natural red hair, a milk chocolate complexion, and hazel eyes. All of which immediately fascinate me, but I was still stuck on the stubborn, cute, but kind of petty first girl. "My name's Mariana, and she's—" but stubborn over here cuts her off again. I exchange a look with Kai, then go back and focus on the matter at hand.

"A name for a name. Fair trade. And since Mariana already told you her name, you," she points to Kai, "have to say your name. Then _you_," she points to me with a certain emphasis in her voice, "have to say your name if you ever wanna _dream _about having mine." Okay, she wants to play hard to get? Baby that's my middle name. Like let's go, hoe! You dealing with Young Reezy. Riley Escobar, y'know? H.R. Papersta—

"Well, my name's Kai," Kai starts, and I glare fiercely at him. I _was _gonna mentally work on my hard to get plan then share notes with this nigga, but at least now I know he's gonna fit in with more people in my friend group than just me. Besides, I guess since Cindy and I are already so alike, the last thing we needed was a triplet of us.

"And I'm Riley. But girls like to call be Young Reezy, or Riley Escobar," I properly introduce myself, saving some of my aliases for another time.

"Both are too… _long_," she chooses that word, a special look in her eyes directed towards me. Yo, this girl a freak! "Maybe Esco will have to do for now… unless you can give me a reason why long ones are better," she continues, and Kai pats me on the leg as if to ask, "are you seeing this too?" However, Mariana just slaps the freak girl's arm. "I'm sorry, lemme stop," freak girl says with a laugh. "Can't get too far without a name. I'm Adrianna," she _finally _formally establishes herself.

"Quiet, please! We're about to start attendance!" A 9th grade advisor calls out, and we all quiet up to hear her speak.

_**Wuncler Hills Academy**_

_**Sex-Ed (5**__**th**__** Period)**_

_**Cindy's POV:**_

I'm sure that Miss Tiffany, the sex-ed teacher, gave the same talk in Riley's class this morning. There are four types of behaviors most life skills teachers focus on: passive, aggressive, assertive, and passive aggressive. Passive is you do whatever and let fools step all over you—not relatable. Aggressive is punching someone for snitching—yes, relatable. Assertive is going up and talking to a teacher in a polite manner because your dad made you—yes, relatable. And passive aggressive is being a punk then coming around and lowkey fucking with somebody else's day because you didn't wanna not be a punk, but you didn't wanna punch them or nothin' in the first place—not relatable.

But, somehow, I knew I was in denial about two of these behaviors—everyone has done them, and they're all relatable.

Anyways, I learned some stuff about Amanda and Kai, but not that much. I didn't just wanna penetrate them with questions or nothin', so I'm just gon' give them some time to get used to us before I try again.

But what I did learn is Amanda is mixed—her mom is Black and her dad is White—and they recently moved to Woodcrest because of her dad's job as a banker. I forget what her mom does, but she's serving on the school board here. I think she does admissions stuff or something like that, and they hired her since this school is brand new and everything. And Amanda's an only child. What I learned about Kai was that his parents were divorced when he was like two, he doesn't know his dad, his stepdad is his little sister's dad, so he likes him for that, but not much else. And he was outside of Woodcrest in East Haven, on the bad part of town. But now he lives Downtown. And since WHA is a private school, he's still in range and they pick him up on a different bus and all that shit.

"Cynthia or Cindy?" Some asks, and I'm forced to stop reminiscing. I realize it's Ms. Tiffany, which means I'm probably about to get asked a question about the lesson. She's a really chill, laid back teacher and I like her a lot so far, so I pray to God that I don't get this wrong cuz I don't want her to think less of me.

"Cindy, please," I respond politely. She answers with a smile before continuing to speak.

"What are the four core behaviors, again?" She asks.

"Passive, aggressive, assertive, and passive aggressive," I say.

"Yes, that's correct!" I smile and breathe a breath of relief. "Remember these four for next Monday, because they're very important and we act in those behaviors everyday."

**A/N: okay so since I haven't been getting much out, I wanted to make sure I got this out tonight. So I was trying to type a lot in detail and I was just like damn because this is longer than my first chapter and to be honest I wanted to write more but I don't want this like 20,000 word chapter in the middle and less than 5,000 word first chapter. So I tried to get to Sex-Ed (or life skills) class because it only occurs in the schedule once a week and the lesson is gonna be applied to tomorrow (in this fic). Next chapter/"tomorrow" will also have more descriptions of classes, classrooms, teachers, and other areas, like the cafeteria. So more insight into the schedule and maybe a few more OC's introduced.**


	5. In His Arms

**A/N: okay so I've decided from now on I'm just gonna have to deal if these chapters are longer than the first chapter of this fic. A lot of times the first chapter is the longest, but I don't wanna limit how much I write in the following chapters like I've been doing just because I don't want them to be that much longer than the first chapter.**

**Anyways, have fun reading!**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE BOONDOCKS, MacBook airs, Google Chrome, Smart Boards, Goldfish, Welch's fruit snacks, Tastycake, Google Drive**

_**West Torrance Road**_

_**Tuesday, September 15**__**th**_

_**7:30am**_

_**Amanda's POV:**_

_Sigh_. I was currently boarding the bus, having to deal with Mr. Uncle Ruckus's nonsense. Huey, Riley, Caesar, and Cindy all just called him, 'Ruckus', but I went with Jazmine's more formal name to be polite. Still, he was everything _but _polite.

"Mhm, ain't it a shame?" He asks me as I take my first step onto the bus stairs. "Yo daddy gave you some beautiful, blue eyes, long, light brown hair, and a nice, pointy nose, but yo mama being dark and Black and all made you darker than them Freeman niggas. I don't care if it's by a single shade, you _still _darker than them… and that's what's a shame, mulatto. But I know that the White part of ya that makes ya a mulatto is keeping you pure and angelic enough to overpower the dark, evil part of ya. So get on this bus, now, and have a nice day. I hope ya good half lets you get good grades, but not as good as those precious White chilluns. They deserve to have a better education than you."

I shake my head at his long ass comment—something I've already done about 200 times since yesterday. It's funny how I was already starting all these new habits based on my new friends' already existing behaviors. Like Cindy and Riley loved to have roast sessions, and would sometimes even make it a battle for how well one of them dissed random kids vs. how well the other dissed random kids. Jazmine was super naïve, that was obvious, but based off of the few explicit things she _did_ know, if she really needed something from Huey, her first thought was, _'grab the crotch'_. Then there was Huey—the silent, not-shy revolutionary who always told the truth when called upon to speak. And finally Caesar, who, like Huey, was a revolutionary, but was also more upbeat, outgoing, and could never shut up about Brooklyn. But it was kinda cute how he was always so determined to educate everyone on and represent his hometown. Oh! And how could I forget Kai? He was so chill, nice, and understanding… and there was just something about him that made you trust him immediately.

It's also pretty funny how much I know about this group of people after only one full day of talking to them.

Overall, at the very least, I can say I'm _more than _satisfied with my new friend group. They're all funny, smart, attractive, and nice (yes, even Huey!) and I'm glad to have met them because my first few days at school were just _plain sad and boring_.

I look around the rest of the bus at the random, White kids (who probably have no interest in me) as I take my seat. But then one bold one comes to the back of the bus. As he approaches me, I realize he wasn't White after all, but, rather, Asian. I recognize him from yesterday and try to remember his name. He was cool, I know that, and he's not afraid to display it. He has nothing but swag as he sits down and flashes a smile, which allows me to view his big dimples even better.

"Uhh, hi," I greet him with a small, gentle smile.

"Heyyy, what's cookin', good lookin'?" He flirts a bit. I furrow my eyebrows together in hopes that memories from when I've seen this dude before now will come back. Then_ click_!

"Wait, didn't I see you yesterday? Like… you came on the bus yesterday, then I saw you in school, too. You got on the bus at Cindy's stop, though… right?" I question him.

"Tis correct, madam," he says in a British accent and quickly flashes yet another smile. "I slept over at my boy Jake Campbell's house last night, though. Aye, Jake, raise a hand to this pretty young thang!" He screams across the bus, and a naturally tannish White boy raises his hand.

"Oh, alright," I briefly respond.

"Yeah… we're throwing a party soon, so, y'know, we gotta get everything all together, y'know? I mean, I DJ, and I'm pretty good at it if I do say so myself, so we were tryna figure out what songs would be best to play for me to mix, and he was tryna get together an invite list, and y'know, all that crap. We were thinking 'bout just inviting the school but that's too much. We don't wanna have to be responsible for a bunch of drunk and horny 14 year olds, y'know?" this boy explains.

"I'm just gonna go ahead and tell you that all I heard were a bunch of, 'y'knows'. But I think I get the gist of what you're saying. Big party—got it," I reply.

"Oh, hah, yeah… I say, 'y'know' a lot when I'm nervous… y'know?" he adds the second one jokingly. Since he's sitting in the seat across from me, I move across the isle to sit next to him. He backs up a little, but it looks like he backed up because me being closer to him made him more nervous—he didn't back up to make more space for me on the seat. Because of this, I lean into him more and prepare myself to say one of the corniest, classic movie lines ever created.

"Do I make you… nervous?" I ask him, trying to keep a straight face on. However, I fail immediately and break into laughter. He gulps and looks at me in fear, then amazement, and finally a smile begins to creep onto his face.

"More like do you make me horny. Like yooo, that was off the chain! You are one crazy chica, umm… what's your name?"

"Shaking my head, I'm off the chain? I'm Amanda Charleston, and you are..?"

"Hiro. Hiro Otomo. Only the freshest and wildest kid you'll ever meet in your life. Hey, so, who are you friends with anyways?" Hiro asks. I look up to make better eye contact with him, and as I shift my position, I get a glance out the window, only to see Jazmine, Huey, and Riley meeting up at the corner with Caesar. Riley was obviously complaining based on how he was tilting his head back and forth and making all of these over exaggeratory hand motions. Granddad probably got mad at him for drinking all the orange juice again, or watching TV too late at night, or something of that sort. Huey was just nodding, obviously half-listening, while Jazmine was squeezing Huey's hand and looking into his eyes, very noticeably in love with this man with an afro. As they caught up with Caesar, he gave Huey and Riley dap, then hugged Jazmine, calling her, "Jazzy Fresh". Him and Jazmine had some kind of brother, sister relationship that no one questioned—mainly because everyone in our group, and probably some others outside of it, knew that Jazmine has had her eyes on Huey since she first met him at age 10, and Caesar was hopelessly lovesick over Cindy for the past two years or so.

They gather together, forming a straight line to board the bus.

"Well, my friends are actually right there," I point at them for Hiro.

"What?! No way, Joséna!" he makes a feminine version of the name 'José'. "The Freeman bros and Ceez are my boys!" I examine Hiro's face, looking him up and down as if to make sure he's telling the truth. He breaks under the pressure. "Well, I mean, Riley more than anyone. But I talked to all of them and was their host on the first day of school. The girls are cool, too, and I kinda sorta know Cindy from being her neighbor and all."

"Now _that's _more believable. Anyways, we should probably move a row back, and to the left side of the bus. No doubt Huey and Jazmine will sit in the row right behind us, on the right side, and Cindy, Caesar, and Riley will sit in the very back row." I get up to move across the isle and back one row, but then feel a tug on my hand.

"Keep moving, Aman-man," Hiro already makes a nickname for me, "I'm just using you for extra support. And inspiration and all that good stuff."

"Well how 'bout I _inspire _you to make a new nickname for me that doesn't sound like you're an Amazon woman who's seeing a man for the first time," I sneak diss him, similar to what Cindy would do to Riley or Caesar.

"Okay, maybe, 'aman-man' sounds a little too much like, 'a man, man', but… what else am I supposed to call you? Amton? Sounds like a city. Manda? Too overused. Sweet cheeks? That's just a pervy name a fuckboy would call you. Legit I got nothing… oh my lord wait I lied! Ima call you, 'AC'. Is that all guch with you?"

"Yeah, it's the most 'gucci' thing you listed," I respond with a laugh.

"Nah, you gotta say, 'guch', not 'gucci'," Hiro instructs. "It sounds _wayyy _cooler, and you know it too."

"What sounds way cooler?" I hear a high, feminine voice question. I look up to see the one and only Jazmine Dubois.

"Hey, Jazzy!" I greet her, and she sits down in the row across from us. Hiro switches seats with me so that I can better talk to Jazmine.

"Huey, Caesar, and Riley are going through their daily argument with Mr. Uncle Ruckus right now," Jazmine debriefs us on the situation.

"Oh, what?! Riley told me about their arguments with this fool, and Lord knows if I wasn't as rich as I am and with as much status in Woodcrest that I'd have a daily argument with Ruckus, too, but I've never seen Huey, Riley, and Ceez's confrontations with Ruckus play out live! Move over, girl! I gotta see this." Hiro looks at me as if I'm crazy for not moving, so I calmly explain to him why I'm not moving whatsoever.

"We just moved, dude," I say.

"And? I wanna see the argument…bitch."

"Who you callin' a bitch? Chigga, you gon' have to move _this bitch_ to see that shit take place," I speak at him like Cindy and Riley combined would, followed by slowly breathing in and out to get my heart rate down again.

"I knew I could push your buttons _just right_, AC," Hiro comments on my behavior. He then lifts me up, slides over, and places me on his lap. "Now, since I don't think I broke any of your rules, I suggest we all three look over to the front of the bus to see what's happening." Jazmine, who had her mouth open in shock because of the events that just took place, looks in the same direction as us.

In the front of the bus I see Huey yelling at Mr. Uncle Ruckus as he condescendingly replies, but I can't really make out what they're saying. Hiro notices me squinting my eyes, so he signals Jake Campbell, who yells, "Shut up!" to everyone on the bus. Finally, I can hear the conflict take place, as well as every other nosy person on this bus—or, in other words, everyone on this bus.

"Now I'm not gonna repeat myself again, coons: I need y'all darkies to give me 5 reasons why I should even let your dark, evil selves onto this bus with these light, angelic White chillun." For a moment, the boys look amongst themselves. Caesar is the first out of the three to speak up.

"Riley, you wanna start this roast off?" Ceez asks.

"You already know, my nig," Riley says with a mischievous smile. "Boi! For starters, you're darker than all three of us combined, and wanna claim you White and got revitiligo and some shit. Fuck outta here with that, Ruckus."

Caesar takes the next number out of five on Mr. Uncle Ruckus's list. "So you're also pretty dumb for thinking that."

"Which also means that we're smarter than you. We've been going to school with Whites for years, and they tolerate us more than they'll ever tolerate your ass. You constantly kiss up to them, but they just take us as is because we bring our Black culture along with us. Lastly, I just had to hear my Granddad yell at Riley, and I don't want to hear another old, Black man, who thinks that everything in the world is wrong except for them, yell at me," Huey answers the last three components of Mr. Uncle Ruckus's original question.

Mr. Uncle Ruckus looks down and Riley shoves his arm out of the way so that he can truly board the bus. He charmingly smirks at some White girls, who both whisper and scream several inappropriate things, on his way to the back of the bus. When Mr. Uncle Ruckus looks up again, his face shows a bit of sadness. When the two remaining boys in the front of the bus see this change in facial expression, Caesar's eyebrows, which had been raised, lower and his eyes widen a bit. However, Huey's scowl remains. I get chills from how cold he seems.

Forgetting I was sitting on Hiro's lap, I'm quite surprised when I hear someone ask me, "AC, you aiight?" I nod my head at him in hopes that he'll just blow it off, which he does.

Both Caesar and Riley begin to walk to the back of the bus to where we're currently sitting. On the way back, similar to Riley, Caesar was on the more _flirtatious _side, while Huey kept his signature scowl on his face. Still, Huey was known and recognized for being the most attractive boy, and really overall person, at Wuncler Hills Academy at only a week into school. Jazmine had told me sometime between all of our talking on the bus yesterday morning that Huey held this title at their last school, as well, which was significantly bigger than WHA. So I wouldn't be surprised at all if Huey kept this title at WHA all year long.

Since they like to save the middle seat for Cindy, Riley sits on the far right of the long, back row seat and Caesar sits on the far left. Meanwhile, Huey takes his window seat next to Jazmine.

"Y'all fucking?" were the first words to come out of Riley's mouth all morning that were directed towards me.

"Now, dude… do you really want me to go off on you this early?"

"You finna go off on me? Pssshhh, you basically just like Mariah over here, how you gon' roast Young Reezy?" He questions me cockily.

"Lies you tell from the book of lies…" Hiro murmurs under his breath, already being exposed to my rough and gritty side just a few minutes ago.

"I can safely say that I'm the perfect mix of Jazmine and Cindy. Hiro over here just saw my Cindy side not too long ago, and I don't think you wanna see it either," I whisper-yell at him through my closed teeth, doing my best to intimidate him.

"Aiight, girl… damn! I'll make sure not to mess witchu again," Riley begins, "for now," he adds with a grin.

I smile in triumph for getting Riley to give up in defeat. Even if it was just a little defeat, it was still an accomplishment for me. Across the isle, I hear Jazmine softly talking to Huey.

"You don't have to tell me you feel bad for making Mr. Uncle Ruckus get sad. You don't have to confess that it takes a lot to make him sad, and you're amazed that you could even do it. You don't have to argue with me and say that you didn't mean to be that cold, so drop the case. I'm not going to drop it… I just want to hold you, okay?" Jazmine's words and effect on Huey amaze me. I think I was beginning to understand their best friendship, and why they haven't gotten together already.

Their friendship was so perfect, so why would they want to lose it all through a romantic relationship? Or would they lose it at all? As I ponder, I see Huey given in to Jazmine, without _even a sigh_, as she brings her legs up onto the seat and leans over to rest on his left shoulder and hold her arms/hands on his right shoulder. He puts his hand around her waist, and all I can think is, "goals." I'm sure that everyone in my friend group has seen Huey and Jazmine's physical closeness before, but I don't know if everyone has seen their mental closeness in the way I just did.

The bus comes to a stop again, and Cindy and some other White kids get on. Cindy comes to the back of the bus, claiming the seat that I thought she would. Similar to Caesar and Riley, when the boys on the bus extended their hands towards her or flirted with her, she smiled back. Unlike the boys, she wouldn't engage with them anymore than that. I applauded Cindy for standing firm and not just giving the ass to any boy.

"Aww, look at these two!" Cindy refers to Huey and Jazmine. But despite this comment, they don't change their position at all. Rather, Jazmine leans into him more. Cindy looks for her next target to talk about, and turns to Caesar. "Damn, Caesar! Back at it again with the white vans!" Cindy brings up the vine trend. "Aww, and look at my wittle Weezy over here. You're a good gangsta, yes you are, yes you are," Cindy pet talks Riley. "Oh, and lastly Amanda and Hiro. Hiro, wuz good? You already fucked A-Charles over here and slept over at her house, too? And A-Charles, you look mighty comfortable on this chigga's lap," Cindy analyzes the scene.

"…None of the above happened," Hiro says uncomfortably. He slides over to the left, towards the window, so I'm no longer sitting on his lap. I'm a little bothered by this change, but I don't know why. After all, I just met him a matter of minutes ago.

"Aye, so Cindy, I'm throwing a party soon," Hiro starts a more normal conversation with her.

"Forreal?"

"Yeah, and all y'all better come _and _not wear anything as tacky as this uniform!" He exclaims.

"Now… boy. Did you really think I was gonna wear this plaid skort and blue shirt? And have my hair in a ponytail? And did you really think that I was gonna let anyone out the house looking like this? I mean, Jazzy has a sloppy bun and is wearing a navy skort and a yellow shirt, A-Charles over here has a high, ballet bun and is wearing a khaki skort and white shirt. All of you boys are wearing fuckin' khakis and navy blue shirts _again_…" She shakes her head, "_like _I was even gonna tolerate these uniforms as an option of what to wear to a party!" Cindy rants. Hiro, Riley, Caesar, and I laugh at her outburst.

I feel the bus come to a stop. "Aiight, y'all… let's get going!" Cindy exclaims. We all get up, Huey and Jazmine moving the slowest, as we head towards the front of the bus to get off of it.

We all head into school together, Kai being the only member missing from the squad. Well, I guess we could have another member or two, being that Hiro only joined today and we're only a week into school. But it's weird to think about that. Huey, Riley, Caesar, Cindy, and Jazmine have all been such close friends for so long that too many people joining them would probably change their friendships, if not completely mess them up.

I hope I don't become the reason their friend group gets messed up—shoot, I hope that their friend group doesn't get messed up at all. Still, switching schools alone is a big change for anyone and _will _definitely make an impact on friend groups, no matter how strong they are.

I turn right in the hallway, along with everyone else, and spot Kai in the distance.

"Kai!" I exclaim, running towards him and leaping into a hug.

A bit taken back because of me not giving him a warning, he responds, flustered, with, "Hey, Amanda. What's up?" He hugs me back and I stay in his arms for a moment or two more before backing up to have a normal conversation with him.

"Nothing much, just wish you were on our bus," I remark as the rest of the crew gathers around us.

"Hey, I don't think that Black Bill the bus driver would appreciate his favorite kid leaving his bus," Kai replies with a smile.

"Black Bill the bus driver?" Riley questions.

"Favorite kid?" Cindy asks, adding onto Riley.

"Well, I mean, it's me, Amber, Ciara, Mariana, Adrianna, and some other kids of color on there. And I'm by far the most well behaved of us all, so, yes—favorite kid. And dude told us his name was Bill, and he's Black, so we call him Black man Bill or Black Bill the bus driver," Kai explains.

Huey just shakes his head while the rest of us laugh our heads off.

"So, what class do y'all have first period?" Kai asks us.

"Well, we all got assembly first, really," Hiro answers.

"Oh, yeah, they're gonna be talking to us about electives and study halls and shit," Cindy recalls.

"After that, Huey, Riley, and I have Spanish!" Jazmine says excitedly.

"Ima be in Forensics with Cindy," Caesar tells Kai.

"And I… gotta check," Hiro says, walking off to his locker.

"Same, and we should probably all go get our books," I agree.

Since Hiro's locker is in the front of the school, in the North wing, we break off from him. The rest of us take The Walk, which is one of the connecting North to South wing hallways, so that we can head to our lockers. At the end of The Walk, Caesar, Huey, and Jazmine break off from Riley, Cindy, Kai, and I because their lockers are on the West side of the South wing, and ours are on the East side of the South wing. Then there's one, last, final break off where Cindy and I head to our lockers, which are closer to the classrooms, and Riley and Kai head off to theirs, which are closer to the field house and locker rooms at the very back of the school.

As I'm unlocking my locker, Cindy speaks up. "So, what do you think of those two girls?" She tilts her head to the right, and I look over to where Kai and Riley are. They're currently socializing with two Latina girls.

"Don't know, haven't talked to them yet," I say as I close my locker—books in hand.

"Well, ain't now a perfect time to start?" Cindy says with a mischievous smirk. I follow her lead, a grin appearing on my face as well. We walk over to them, both doing a bit of a sexy walk. Cindy secures her arm firmly around Riley's, while I simply stand next to Kai.

"Now Reezy, you never told me you _already _had some blonde bimbo as a girlfriend," the first girl starts, looking like a freakin' caramel drop. I don't know _how _she thought she was cute, or how Riley thought she was cute. It was all a mystery to me.

"Bitch, who you calling a blonde bimbo? Me and Reezy go way back, and if you think Ima just let some random _hoe _come into the picture all calling me names and shit, you best get to stepping," Cindy fires back at her.

Riley looks down at Cindy, then back at the hoe. Then, the second girl speaks up. "Adrianna, don't…" she warns the first girl.

"Don't _what_, Mariana? I don't know how Riley's tryna get with me when there's other girls involved. I heard some rumors but this just confirms it's true. Like, how you finna holla at me in the first place? I shoulda stuck with my gut and _knew _I was too good for you," the girl I now know is named Adrianna goes off. Funny that she mentions how rumors are already forming in the second week of school.

"Adri, chilllll," Riley tries to calm her down.

"Is she always this angry?" I whisper-question Kai.

"Don't know, just met her yesterday. Only talked to her in homeroom. She's been flirting with Riley ever since," he whisper-describes back to me. I nod my head in acknowledgement, then tune back into the conversation.

"Look, Adrianna, I still wanna explore the option of us, aiight?" Riley pleads.

Adrianna rolls her eyes at him. "Okay, but only cuz there's no other _men _at this school." She removes Cindy's arm from Riley, pulls him over, and then places her hand on his chest. Soon after, Caesar, Jazmine, and Huey come over.

"Riley, I'm going to say one thing before we go to assembly: don't make me have to look for your ass after school to go home," Huey says, and Adrianna eyes him up and down.

"Well ain't this something," she murmurs under her breath. "Your brother is the realest man I've ever seen in my life," she tells Riley. "Too bad… We could've had something, but now that I see this…"

"Hmm, too bad he's already tied down by someone else…" Riley fires back at her. Riley's comment was more of a genuine joke, however, I think Adrianna was dead serious and would take Huey for a boyfriend if that were an option.

"Now let's go to assembly," Caesar says, and we all follow him to the auditorium. I remember Cindy and Caesar talking during lunch yesterday about how they ventured around the school together to figure out where everything was. So, naturally, Caesar would be a trustworthy leader to follow. There're three sets of double doors to enter the auditorium—on the far left, far right, and in the center. The center doors are open, students piling into them, while some teachers are standing outside the other two sets of double doors.

"10th grade over here!" a tenth grade advisor yells, spotting both Kai and Riley. "Wilson-Patterson! Freeman! Over here now!" he continues to yell. "You too, Adrianna Lopez! And Mariana Rodriguez!"

"He ain't Miss Becker—my actual advisor—so I don't see how he's finna tell me what to do and where to go," Riley complains. "That nigga needa chill," he mutters, lazily dragging himself over to the 10th grade seating section of the auditorium. Kai, Adrianna, and Mariana follow him over there, all sitting in alphabetic order as instructed to do so by the advisors.

The auditorium was set up like the following: 9th grade was in the front left, 11th grade behind them in the back left, then 10th grade in the front right side, and us 12th graders behind them in the back right.

Again, because we had to sit in alphabetical order, I was _close to _Jazmine, but not next to her. In between us there was a boy. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and was probably only two inches shorter than Huey, who was 6'3". He had a short hair cut and looked more preppy than any girl in this school. Actually, make that in the world.

"Hello marvelous, I'm Ryan Dinkley," he greets me.

"Hi, I'm Amanda Charleston," I return the favor. He then turns to the right to give his salutations to Jazzy.

"Why hello darling, I'm Ryan Dinkley," he introduces himself to her.

"Why hello," Jazmine replies with a laugh. "I'm Jazmine Dubois."

"So you must be Tommy's daughter, correct? Well, Tom, but I think _Tommy _sounds like a better name for him. I believe I met you on the first day of school—with some of your _not so _accepting friends. Still, your father's been quite the ally for the LGBT community—even if he is straight!

"Yes, Tom Dubois is my father! And I've been part of the overall Gay-Straight alliance all my life. So I apologize for my friends, but I'm sure that once you talk to them more, they won't be _as _bad as when we initially met… Well, I can't guarantee that for Cindy and Riley. But everyone else I'm sure you'll like!" Jazmine goes into full conversation with this kid. I tune them out, and instead look around the room to see where everyone else is seated.

I look to my left, and see Jake Campbell. Earlier today, all I saw was that he was a White boy with naturally tan skin. But now, I see that he also has butterscotch brown eyes, dark, brown hair, a pointy nose that rounded at the tip, soft, pink lips with a medium-sized width, big eyes, long, perfect eyelashes, and even perfecter eyebrows. I look over past him, and see Ceez sitting next to Jake. Oh yeah! I forgot that Caesar is his last name, and Michael is actually his first.

"Ceez! I didn't realize you were right there," I call out.

"Oh, hey Amanda! I'm assuming Jazzy Fresh is close to you too, huh?" He guesses.

"Yep, you got that right! Only two seats away from me—just like you," I reply. I realize that Jake shifted in his seat, and decide to act on it. "Sorry for talking over you. You're Jake Campbell, right?"

"Yeah," he flashes a smile, "I saw you on the bus this morning… now, don't get _too _cozy with Hiro, alright?" he laughs at his own comment.

"Alright," I laugh back. I continue looking around the room to see where Cindy, Hiro, Huey, Kai, and Riley are. When I look back, Huey has a Latina girl and White boy on his right side, and some Black girl on his left side. The two girls are talking to him, but Huey just looks entirely uninterested. I look even further back, and see Cindy trying to ignore someone who's _clearly _a fuckboy. And when I look even further back, I spot Hiro looking down at his lap, obviously bored. When I look ahead, I see Kai sitting in between a Black girl and a White nerd. He's talking to the Black girl, though, and since he's only two rows ahead of me, I hear him call her Ciara. However, I can't spot Riley—not even his cornrows.

Man, I wonder how he's doing…

_**Wuncler Hills Academy**_

_**8:00am**_

_**Riley's POV:**_

"Naw, girl, I _promise _you we're not fucking," I tell Amber Franklin for the 10th time in the past five minutes. "Just cuz I stood up for C-Murph doesn't mean we're a thing. _It means _that she's my bestest friend in the whole wide world." Amber flips her straightened hair over her shoulder for the 100th time today, and looks at me with her light brown eyes, which truly pop out and contrast from her dark chocolate skin.

"Nigga, you promised me the same thing many times now. But then what is this I'm hearing 'round school then? Huh?" Amber questions me.

"Rumors, bitch! Nothing more, nothing less. 'Sides, I'm messing 'round with Adrianna Lopez now," I say with a smirk.

"Forreal? Well, if you ever need a side chick, then…" she takes her hand and sticks it _deep _in my left pocket. She digs around with it, purposely rubbing my dick. She then takes her hand back out my left pocket, and sticks it in the right pocket of my khakis. I feel her grab my phone, then drop it, rub my dick once more, then go back up to grab the phone again. She hits the home button, then swipes right—only to realize that I have a password. "I'm assuming you're going to tell me your password," Amber looks at me, attempting to strike fear in my eyes.

"Or, I could just login for you cuz I don't need hoes to know my password," I remark. I take my phone from her, enter in my password, and then hand it back.

"Who you callin' a hoe? Nigga—" Amber begins to rant, but she's cut off by Vice Principal Reagan.

"Good morning students of Wuncler Hills Academy! Welcome to your first, official assembly," Reagan says hella dryly. "I am your leader, your Vice President—Robert Leeron Reagan. I will now have our assistant—"

"What do you mean by, 'our'?" I hear someone call out from behind me. Bet you ten bucks that the nigga who said that was my bro, McHater. However, the voice I heard wasn't _exactly _his, it sounded like Huey's voice, but a little higher. And after puberty, trust me—Huey had gotten a significantly deeper voice. Like if Huey had said it, he had to have used another voice so that he wouldn't get in trouble. But that's so unlike him… why would he ever _not _claim his revolutionary words? I turn around, only to see Mr. McFall—Caesar's advisor—telling some White boy not to call out.

"Moving on," Vice Principal Reagan blows the whole thing off. "I now ask Ms. Felkinheiner to take stage."

"Aww, not _this _bitch again," I complain under my breath.

"Hello students," she begins, already _irking my soul _on account of her annoying voice. "I'm here today to talk to you about electives. Does anyone know what electives are?" She looks around the big room, waiting for someone to raise their hand so that she can call on them. "Yes, Miss Dubois," she calls on Jazmine. _Of course _Mariah would sign herself up for some shit like this.

"Electives are a course that you can take for a semester, and in most schools, you have to sign up for at least one academic elective, but there's also some art and music electives that are more fun that you can take," Mariah says all with a smile.

"Exactly. And at Wuncler Hills Academy, we also have boards and clubs—such as Student Council, Debate Club, Frisbee, and more. Right now, in these next few minutes, you'll be receiving your school-provided laptops and signing up for these courses. You'll all have received an email in your new, school-provided email accounts. There is a post-it note on each and every one of your laptops that has your school login, including your email username and password," Felkinheiner describes. "Freshmen have orange laptop cases, sophomores have black laptop cases, juniors have green laptop cases, and seniors have blue laptop cases," she finishes.

I feel Amber tug my hand, and look at her confused. She gives me a laptop, and tells me to pass it down the isle. I do this a few times, and soon enough, I see a small sticker that says, "rfreeman" and my graduating year.

"Aye this is lit!" I exclaim as I open my new, black MacBook Air laptop. I notice the sticky note and see that my school email username is simply: rfreeman . I open Google chrome and set it as my default browser. Then, I start to log into my email. I look over to Amber's laptop and see that her username is: afranklin . I soon learn that everyone's usernames are set up just the way that they're written on people's stickers—their first initial followed by their last name. I take my phone back from Amber, who I'm sure has already done _hella _snooping on my social media and texts, and open my photo library. I begin to send a pic of myself to my school account so that I can set it as my profile and be flexin' and shit, but then I hear someone clear their voice into the microphone. I look up to see Felkinheiner, who, once again, has killed my whole vibe.

"Now let me be clear, students. These are _school owned _laptops. They will be yours will you attend Wuncler Hills Academy, but if any damage is done to them or you would like to keep them after your departure from WHA, then _you _will be paying for it. Ever wondered what that _random contract _your parent or legal guardian had you sign, say, two weeks ago was? Well, it was a contract for these laptops. All of them were handed it with your signatures and your parent or legal guardian's signatures, so there is nothing you can do about them now," Felkinheiner explains. As she continues to talk, I curse Granddad under my breath. "Now, children… you will have the remaining three minutes of assembly to answer the survey we sent out. You will be put into one of your top three electives and boards and clubs by next period so long as you _all _fill this out now. And since there are now laptops left to hand out, I expect that you _all are currently _filling this out." Yeah, this bitch was definitely tripping. But then, suddenly, she turns her head directly towards me—having spotted me out of the crowd of students—and narrows her eyes. "So, I suspect there will be _no problems _with filling out this survey _whatsoever_. I would _absolutely hate _to have to take out the failure of the system on _one student_." I gulp, but still try to look at her fiercely. The profile pic could wait, cuz _this thug _right here ain't tryna get sent to Hasan's office again, even if he _is _the coolest principle to ever live. "You can expect results from the survey in your emails soon," she finishes off. Reagan and her switch places so that he can dismiss us from assembly.

"Why thank you Ms. Felkinheiner. And as soon as our genius IT guys are done with this electives process, half will be fired and the other half will be sent underground to our temporary tech office since other parts of this school are still being added on. Now, all of you students may go. Out of here, I said!" Reagan yells.

"Well, damn," I say, shaking my head.

"You're gonna be saying, 'damn' even more and shaking your head a whole lot once you see the magic that I've done on your phone," Amber says, winking at me and switching as she walks away.

Man, I don't understand _why _or _how _girls think I won't notice if they put an extra pep in their step. Like, I can see when you're switching, and when you're tryna look hella sexy while walking. And I feel flattered that you're going the extra mile for me to try and make something as basic and simple as walking look hot, but forreal? I mean, I've seen just about every girl _but _Jazmine do it! And I'm sure that _she's even _done it when she's alone with McHater!

But, I digress.

Well, more like my _thoughts _do.

I snap out of it, and try to get in the line of sophomores so that I'm not the last one in here with Reagan. Since I'm in the middle of the third row, and I had been waiting in my seat, just pondering, for about a minute, I barely make it out as the seventh to last student filing out of the auditorium.

Books and laptop in hand, I head back out the center double doors of the room. I walk down the big hallway for a hot sec, then turn right to go down the connecting, slimmer East/West hallway. I make a left this time, and another left, then take my seat in the Spanish classroom.

"¡Hola Señora Vargas!" I greet her, having already met her yesterday and last week.

"¡Hola Reezy Joven!" She says jokingly with a smile, translating, 'Young Reezy' to Spanish. "¿Como estás?"

"Estoy bien, pero también estoy cansado," I confess, saying that I'm good but also tired.

It's a wonder how I got into advanced, honors, 12th grade Spanish… well, actually, not really. I think I just told myself that to keep up my rep. I mean, I'm fluent in Spanish, and have been for quite some time now. Just cuz I might act like I didn't know Spanish in front of Adrianna doesn't mean that I don't know the language—it _means _that I'm tryna get her to volunteer to teach me the language so we can have one of dem sexy tutor relationships people always have in books and TV and shit.

I sit down in a desk in the front of the classroom—one of my only classes where I don't care about sitting in the front. Since I'm in the far left of the classroom, near the windows and away from the door, Jazmine, then Huey, sit to the right of me. I lean back in my seat and take it all in.

New school, new friends, new teachers… new _diet_, like shit, and nigga was hungry up in this bitch! I could _not _wait until our break period so that I could have some snacks. But, in the meantime, I'm gonna sit back, relax, and flex my Spanish knowledge on _all _these fools.

_**Mrs. Roth's Classroom**_

_**Wuncler Hills Academy**_

_**9:05am**_

_**Huey's POV:**_

I was currently in AP Calculus. Since I don't have math class on Thursdays, I've only had two classes so far—on Friday, and yesterday, or Monday. And because none of my close friends were in this class, I hadn't really socialized at all. I just took notes and tuned out what I already knew—so, in other words, class was boring and I really only had to listen to five minutes of Mrs. Roth's teaching.

Today, however, was different.

I wasn't tuning out as much as usual, but not because I was confused on what Mrs. Roth was essentially re-teaching me. Rather because an Asian girl with a light complexion sat next to me and engaged in conversation with me. Maybe it was because usually the first class I sat in the very front of the classroom, and yesterday I sat in the very back, but today I sat in the middle. Maybe it was because I came into class just on time today instead of coming in early. Maybe it was for a number of other reasons. But whatever those reasons were, I was glad that she started a conversation with me.

"Hi, I'm Ginger Zee," she greets me.

"Huey Freeman," I simply state my name as a form of response. She makes a face that reads 'I've heard a lot about you even though this is only our second week of school'. I know this facial expression very well because quite a few people have made it once I introduce myself these past few days.

"I should've known," she says with a smile. I nod my head, then turn back to the front of the classroom. I see what Mrs. Roth is displaying on the Smart Board, realize I already know that material, and then turn back to face Ginger once more.

"So…" I utter, not knowing how to start nor continue a real conversation with a person that just came out of the stranger zone. I tilt my head slightly from side to side, my signature scowl never leaving my face.

"I'm Taiwanese," Ginger says in a casual manner.

"Let me guess: by this time in your average conversation with the average White kid that you've probably been surrounded by your whole life, they've asked you where you're _really _from since they know your race is Asian and you were born in America. Because you're so used to receiving this question, you felt inclined to tell me what your answer to this question would be," I guess out loud.

"Umm… one question… _how _did you get all that from one phrase?" Ginger questions me.

"I was simply analyzing what you said. Digging deeper is what I do—I wouldn't be one of those random kids who asks you a degrading, stereotypical, microagression-filled question like that," I reply swiftly.

"Oh, well, umm, thanks then." She was clearly flustered when responding, and I could see a blush rise in her cheeks. After years of seeing Jazmine blush, it's almost like I had a radar for those emotional, reddish pinkish expositions in cheeks.

"It's nothing," I assure her. I allow one of my dimples to show, but don't go into full smirk. She blushes even more. Her eyes twinkle upon locking with my own eyes. Note to self: don't make any sweet gestures to girls at school or else they'll start to fall in love with you.

I go back to tuning everything out, deciding to patiently wait until the bell rings so that I can go to the cafeteria for break. It was very Riley of me to think the following, but I'm hella hungry up in this bitch right now.

_**Break (Snack)**_

_**10:00am**_

_**Cathy M. Moore Cafeteria**_

_**Wuncler Hills Academy**_

_**Jazmine's POV:**_

I was currently walking into the cafeteria for some snacks. Cindy was by my side, going off about the way Riley's new girlfriend Adrianna treated her this morning. Cindy's intentions didn't seem like the best to begin with, but I think that Adrianna's response and overall actions negatively overpowered Cindy's original intentions. I had spent the first few minutes of break at my locker, and for these past two minutes, Cindy had been complaining to me.

"So, this hoe was all like, 'you never told me you _already _had some blonde bimbo as a girlfriend', tryna talk to Riley and ignore me and shit and act like I wasn't there, and she wasn't expecting me to say anything back neither! So I came _at her ass _and gave her what she deserved. Her friend told her to stop and e'rything but she _still _persisted!" Cindy exclaims.

"Wait… she thought you and Riley were dating? Why would she think that?" I ask her.

"Girl, I don't know, man. She said there was rumors 'bout us and all that kinda crap. Like I really just don't understand! This isn't my first confrontation with hoes and this only our second week of school!"

"Hold on, like, didn't you and Riley just make up that dating stuff to get those boys to leave us alone and stuff? Maybe stuff spread. I mean, this school _is _significantly smaller than our last—I wouldn't be surprised if rumors spread quicker," I examine the evidence Cindy gave me. She looks at me still angry, then her facial expression slowly changes.

"Aw shit…" she sighs in realization, shaking her head and looking down at her feet.

"Come on, it won't be that bad," I assure her. I think of something that'll cheer her up. "I mean, your sneakers are super cool today!" A smile creeps up on her face, slowly but surely.

"Yeah, you checked them out? They're the new releases!" She excitedly describes.

"You already know who it is!" Riley cries out, meeting up with us in the cafeteria. I follow behind Cindy while Caesar and Huey follow behind Riley. Riley wraps his hands around Cindy, grinning wildly all while doing so. "C-Murph _always _got the freshest kicks!" Cindy raises her hands so that they're cupping Riley's face as the two of them continue to compliment each other.

_Wow, _I think. _And Cindy wonders why people say they're dating._

Caesar, Huey, and I all take a seat on one side of the cafeteria table. They were all set up like tables at picnics with benches on either side. Then there were a few circular tables, where teachers that were on lunch duty usually sat, and there were regular chairs that you had to push in.

"You two done?" Caesar asks. They both look at him, then back at each other, and then finally sit down next to each other—all in unison. Cindy still leaning on Riley's shoulder, and Riley's right arm around her waist. Their position reminds me of how Huey and I were sitting on the bus earlier today.

"Y'all know where Amanda and Kai are?" Cindy inquires.

"Amanda said she wanted to meet up with Hiro after math class," I tell her.

"And Kai stayed behind in English to talk to Mr. Murphy about being paired with Adrianna for an upcoming project. That nigga told me he didn't know if he'd be able to take it—and shit, I don't blame him for that," Riley says.

"Speak of the devil," Cindy mutters. "Adri hoe at 10 o'clock," she utters a bit more loudly. Caesar, Huey, and I all turn around to see Adrianna entering the cafeteria with Mariana right behind her. She doesn't look like she has any intentions for coming in her besides seeing who was getting snack.

"Well, I'm going to go get snack. I know what you all want, just give me your ID tags," Huey says. We had all gotten our pictures taken on the first day of school, and somehow, Mr. Wuncler Sr. had gotten all of our IDs made and handed back yesterday during homeroom. Each ID tag had our school picture, first and last name, en graduating year and school ID in smaller numbers, and a barcode on the back for scanning. There was a pin pad at every school entrance that also had a scanner attached to the pad. So when entering school in the morning, a student can either scan his or her ID or enter in the school pin, which was all the even numbers followed by an asterix. We also got to use our ID tags for buying food out of the cafeteria since there was money loaded onto them by our parents/guardians, which is exactly why Huey was asking for them now. We all slid them over to Huey, who proceeded to get into the cafeteria line, grabbing all our favorite snacks as he went through the crowd.

Focusing back on the matter at hand, Riley glances at Cindy. Suddenly, Adrianna makes a sharp turn of her head. "Yo, White girl, move! She's looking over here and you and I both know that while she's cute, I can't take her nonsense again!" Riley hurriedly says.

Cindy lowers her head into Riley's lap so that unless you look on the other side of the table, it would appear as though her whole body isn't there. Still, just because she physically gave in doesn't mean that Cindy won't fire back at him.

"Well, actually, I don't _think_ and sure as hell don't _know _she's cute. I _know _she's very average looking. And it's not nonsense, it's just straight up bullshit, Reezy," Cindy remarks. I turn around and see Adrianna take two steps forward.

"Hey, Adri!" Riley greets her casually. She waves back, then eyes him, Ceez, and I up and down. It seems as though her only intention was to see whether or not Riley was messing around with other girls.

"Yeah, aiight… I'll see you later," Adrianna says, obviously not paying attention to Riley's comment on account of her being too focused on what the rest of us were doing.

Just as she and Mariana exit the cafeteria, Huey comes back to the table.

"Alright, so I have rainbow goldfish for Jazmine," Huey starts, sliding me the packaged snack and my ID tag. "Fruit snacks for Caesar," he slides the Welch's pack and Ceez's ID tag to him. "A Rice Krispie treat for Cindy, a pack of Tastycake donuts for Riley, and corn chips for me," he slides Cindy and Riley their snacks and ID tags just as he did mine and Caesar's.

"Aye, my man Big Hue always knows what's up!" Caesar gives Huey some dap.

"Yeah, but I also know that we only have ten minutes left of break. So y'all all better eat because we still need to go to our lockers and get to class on time," Huey looks to his brother, "And yes, Riley—that includes you."

"Oh, here you go again with that annoying shit," Riley mutters. "And you _wonder _why Cin' and I call you McHater."

"Similar to how you and Cindy also wonder why people think you're dating," Huey addresses the elephant in the room. "We four all know that you're planning on messing around with Adrianna, but the rest of school obviously doesn't know that, and your lies and covers for each other last week—in math class and after history—both didn't do anything _but_ blur your vision here at WHA."

And once again, Huey speaks nothing but the truth.

Cindy raises her head up from Riley's lap to defend herself. Sitting up straight, she responds with, "So what if they think the rumors are true? You guys all know the real truth, and that's all that matters. So chilllll, everything's just fine."

"Anyways," Caesar breaks the silence, "what electives did you guys get?"

"I forgot all about those!" I blurt out, pulling out my phone to check my email. Turns out they shared a document as a whole through Google Drive so that each student could easily figure out what electives and board/club they got into, as well as see what other students are with them in that elective.

"I didn't check either," Cindy says.

"Me neither," Riley adds on.

"Don't think Caesar and I did, then, either," Huey agrees.

I go through the list, reading them all for each of my friends. "Caesar, Riley, and Cindy, you're all together in World History with Miss Lorelli on Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Then Caesar, you alone are in Freestyle Nation with Mrs. Martin as your choice of a club, which happens every Tuesday afternoon. You're also in Student-Teacher service with Miss Lorelli, which is off-campus. So, you'll be seeing a lot of her today!" I move onto Cindy. "Riley and Cindy, you're both in Rap Love with Miss Tiffany, which was your choice of club. Then Cindy, you also have a Yoga elective with Miss Becker. Oh, and Amanda will be there with you!" Moving onto Riley, "I pretty much covered you, Riley, except for that your second elective will be Creative Coding with Mr. Utz. Kai is also taking this course, so don't worry—you'll have a friend." I hear Riley cursing and probably calling me, 'Mariah' under his breath for my, 'don't worry' comment, but I just couldn't help myself with that one! Anyways, I move onto Huey and myself. "Huey, you have astronomy with Dr. Wang as your first elective, then you have Claymation with me! Uh, which is taught by Mrs. Joy. And you're going to be part of Debate Club!" He nods in response, and shows a bit of a smirk to me. But only for a brief moment. "Then I'm also in Beginner's French with Amanda, so Madam Johnson is teaching that. And Frisbee Club! Yippee! With Coach Smith and Kai and Amanda!"

"Well, this is all lit," Caesar is the first to reflect upon what I just said. "Thanks for reading it to us, Jazzy Fresh."

"No, why thank _you_, Ceez," I smile at him. "But we better be heading to our next class. Come on, Huey! We have English right now with Mr. Murphy! And you know it's an honors course, so that means that we can't even be _on time_, we _have _to be early!"

As I drag him off, he utters, "Where you got your standards and morals from, I'll never know. But this is school, Jazmine… it'll be just fine if we're a moment late. Besides, we've been early to English every other day."

"Whatever, Freeman. All I know is that we're quickly stopping by our lockers to grab our books, then heading to Mr. Murphy's room ASAP. I will be sitting next to you all of class, so I'm requiring you to pinch my hand if I start to fall asleep. I know the class is only 45 minutes, but Mr. Murphy can be boring and you know it, too!" I rant my list of demands.

"Will do, Jazmine," is Huey's only response. I smile in victory.

_Maybe this new school isn't so bad after all…_

_**4**__**th**__** Period**_

_**11:05**_

_**Parking Lot of Wuncler Hills Academy**_

_**Caesar's POV:**_

"Alright, guys and gals… does anyone know what a student teacher does?" Miss Lorelli asks us. No one raises their hand, and she smiles. This action makes me quite nervous. Whenever no one raises their hand, then teachers smile, that means that the teacher will call on someone randomly. "Okay… hmm… Michael Caesar? Would you like to guess what a student teacher is?" _Now what did I say_…

"I just go by Caesar," I politely correct her. "And a student teacher at this school is anyone in the elective. So, since it's off-campus, I'd assume that we're going to underprivileged schools in the area to teach the little kids basic reading, math, writing, social studies or history—whatever they call it there, and then maybe a foreign language. So basically I'm guessing that we're teaching younger kids what we've learned over the years."

"Yes, that's exactly right! So, the purpose of this elective, and the reason why I fought so hard to make it an elective, is that I believe that it's very important to learn about the world and see what other people have to go through and their living circumstances. Also, I wanted to see what other people in the WHA community would be interested in doing this kind of thing, and try to encourage students to get involved in service," Miss Lorelli explains. I'm glad that there were _some _socially aware teachers around here. I was glad I had all of my electives with Miss Lorelli. I mean, looking ahead into the school year, it'll be nice and a great relief to go from American History with Mr. Murphy's racist ass self to World History or Student Teacher Service with Miss Lorelli. "So now, students, let's board the van!" The van could fit 11 people, so there were only ten kids in this elective plus Miss Lorelli. And, one student had to sit in the passenger seat at the very front of the van. Because I was the last one to get on, Miss Lorelli had me sit next to her in the passenger seat. "Remind me tomorrow that I owe you five bucks for guessing what this elective is all about," she whispers to me, leaning over into my left ear.

Yeah, Miss Lorelli was about to be my favorite teacher in this jawn.

_**Lunch**_

_**12:00pm**_

_**Cathy M. Moore Cafeteria**_

_**Kai's POV:**_

Amanda, Hiro, Huey, Jazmine, Caesar, and I were coming out of the cafeteria line right now. We had all just checked out with our food. Huey had a salad, Caesar had a Reuben sandwich, Amanda had a calzone, Jazmine had a slice of white pizza, Hiro had a shrimp tempura sushi roll, and I had a Philly style cheese steak.

I have to admit, even if the students and teachers of this school were horrible, the cooks were the best you could ever have. We had endless options of food, and everything tasted amazing.

Jazmine points at a table in the distance. Looking ahead, I see Cindy and Riley already arguing only five minutes into lunch. I could clearly tell that it was arguing and not a diss contest because of the various hand motions they were making and how they would talk with their mouths full. Cindy and Riley both valued sharing their opinion more than what their appearance was or may be.

Since Cindy and Riley are both sitting in the middle of the table on opposite sides of the bench, I take a seat on the left of Riley, and Huey sits next to me. Hiro sits on the right side of Riley. Then Caesar sits on the left side of Cindy so that he's directly across from Hiro. Amanda sits on the direct right side of Cindy so that she's facing me, and Jazmine sits on the right of Amanda so that she's across from Huey.

Cindy and Riley continue to go at it as if the rest of us aren't even there. Soon enough, however, they try to bring us into their argument to get support.

"So all I'm saying is that there has to be some slow zombies, right Kai?" Riley asks me.

"And all I'm saying is that there's no zombies to begin with, so Reezy is stupid," Cindy testifies. I agree with Cindy's realistic opinion on the existence of zombies, but when talking theoretically, I still wanna hear what Riley has to offer.

"I have to side with Cindy on the real world opinion, but what do you got, Riley?" I state my thoughts out loud.

"So I'm saying, like, if there _were _zombies, theatrically speaking," Riley starts.

"Theoretically," Huey corrects.

"Whatever, nigga," Riley cuts back in. "_Theoretically _speaking, if there were zombies, zombies are dead people come back to life, right? Okay, so all y'all are still with me here?" He clarifies, and all of us nod our heads. "So, obviously, there are some people with mental disorders and some people who are just stupid and slow. So if zombies are dead people come back to life, then why wouldn't people with mental disorders and people that are just plain stupid come back to life? Y'know what I mean?" Riley finishes.

Even Huey had to nod his head in consideration of the thought. As dumb as it may seem, there was still some legitness about all of this.

"Anyways, look—" Cindy changes the topic of the conversation, "I'm more concerned about how Reagan's full name actually ended up being 666. Like, I mean, I was just joking when I said that before—I wasn't expecting him to actually have 666 in his name!" She exclaims. Then, she turns to Huey. "Your thoughts on this, McHater?" Cindy asks him, knowing that he'll have the best insight on this out of all of us.

"Well, for starters, his name was a mix between Robert E. Lee, who was a Confederate leader during the Civil War, and Robert Wilson Reagan. I mean, 'Leeron'? I wouldn't be surprised if he changed his name in the middle of his life because the Reagan here is at least in his 60's and definitely was growing up at the same time as the excuse of a president Reagan," Huey spits his knowledge.

"You really think so?" Jazmine asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Now, Mariah—we both know that either way, you woulda believed McHater's ass," Riley speaks up through is full mouth. Despite him currently chewing a double cheeseburger, he _had _to interject the conversation. I was already becoming good friends with Riley, but I didn't understand all of his actions. I mean, some things he did only verified his pride, but other things he did, especially when he thought no one was looking, made me see him in a different light.

'Whatever you say, Riley," Jazmine remarks, then takes another bite of her pizza.

"So, how were everyone's first few classes?" Amanda inquires.

"Oh, they were so good!" Jazmine immediately lights up. "I had every class except for math with Huey, because you guys all know I can't even find the square root of four, but besides that I'm in pretty good honors or advanced classes," Jazmine goes on and on.

"Miss Lorelli is by far my favorite teacher," Caesar volunteers. "Like Riley and Cindy, you're gonna love her in our World History elective." They both look at each other, then back at Caesar. "No, I'm dead serious, y'all. Miss Lorelli even lives up to my Brooklyn standards, fam."

"Well _those _standards aren't that high…"Cindy murmurs under her breath.

"Aiight, _okay_, nigga! You 'on't have to tell me twice—I get it, man," Riley says with some over exaggeratory hand motions. He also squints his eyes in slight disgust.

"Well, Ima take two more bites of my turkey burger then head to the library for Study Hall," Cindy informs us all.

"Aye, hol' up Cin'!" Riley stops her. "Ima come with," he adds.

They both finish up their burgers, then leave the cafeteria in a pair—just like how they came in. Now I know that the two of them have been best friends since Riley was 8 and Cindy was 10, but you _have to _wonder if they've ever considered being anything more than friends. I mean, with all the compliments and flirts they've gotten over the years, at one point in time they probably thought, 'why don't I just date him/her instead of swerving all these requests for dating?'

And I think the pressure would only get worse here at school. I mean, before I even met Riley at our lockers, I knew that he, Caesar, and Huey were supposedly the sexiest guys in school and that something was going on between Riley and Cindy and also Huey and Jazmine.

Being in their friend group now, I can see that Caesar is actually the one who _wants _something to happen between him and Cindy, and that Huey and Jazmine were made for each other but won't get together. While Huey is a very knowledgeable person, you could easily tell that dude didn't know a _damn thing_ about love.

Snapping back into reality, I see Huey and Jazmine and then Hiro and Caesar walking off in twos. Which just leaves Amanda and I. Amanda was pretty cool, and also pretty good looking. But I suppose that everyone in my friend group was also attractive and cool. Still, I had only talked to her today and yesterday, and it seemed like she was trusting me with a lot of stuff. I didn't know what to think about it, all I knew is that I wasn't going to repeat anything she confided in me, or do any wrong onto her.

"You up for another talk?" She asks me. I smile softly.

"Anytime," I reply swiftly, and we head off to a part of the library to talk in private.

_**Last Period**_

_**2:15pm**_

_**Miss Lorelli's Room**_

_**Wuncler Hills Academy**_

_**Debate Club**_

_**Huey's POV:**_

"How _dumb _can you be?! Ignorance is not happiness, therefore getting rid of all the books in the world and not learning about history isn't going to help at all. What _will _help is _you _getting an education!" I scream at some random kids in the room, who were all arguing that not learning about history would be the best option for the future.

"We're not dumb—this would be the best for the future," one of them argues back.

"Future? What do you know about the future? The future would turn your present upside down, tear asunder your illusions, and sent the sanctuary of your own ignorance crashing down around you. Now ask yourself, are you ready to see the future?" I slightly edit my vision speech from years before.

In a manner similar to last week, at the end of class when the bell rings, Eric Mazzarelli comes up to me to comment on my behavior and comments in class once more. "Yo, Freeman, once again, that was some gangsta shit!" he exclaims.

I nod my head in acknowledgement, then turn around the corner. I hear someone's footsteps closing in on me. They're not light like Cindy's or Jazmine's, but they're not as heavy as Caesar's or Riley's, so I'm not exactly sure what to expect. Still, I don't want to turn around and then be caught off guard. I wait for the person to pass me, but once I realize that they've slowed down to walk next to me, I turn to see who they are.

The first thing that I notice is that they're shorter than me. After all, most people were. I was 6'3" plus my afro, which really put my height at 6'7". Jazmine was 5'9", Cindy was a bit shorter at 5'7", and Ceez and Riley were both 6'1". So, I was very used to being the tallest. The boy that was walking next to me looked to be 6'0".

He had light brown hair, deep brown eyes, a pointy nose, thin lips, and average sized ears. I soon realized that this is the person I sat next to this morning in assembly, and that he also had a younger sister that sat to the right of Riley this morning in assembly.

"Thanks for what you said in there, Huey. Growing up around people like that my whole life—it's hard trying to constantly debate with them," he says. Oh yeah—this guy would definitely get along with Cindy. "I'm Matt Grogan by the way," he adds.

"Well, you already know my name, so no need to reintroduce myself. But living in Woodcrest these past seven years, I think I can empathize with you a lot," I say nonchalantly.

"Well, anyways, I gotta go find my sister Sarah to take her home. So I'll see you next Tuesday in Debate Club and during assembly," he departs, and we turn opposite directions. I go to find my crew so that we can take the bus home.

I see Jazmine at our lockers, and she's clutching her knee, so I approach her a bit faster than I was originally pacing myself.

"Jazmine, what happened?" I question her.

"Oh, nothing Huey," she tries to blow me off. She takes her hand off of her knee, but winces at this action. After this, she gives in. "So, I may or may not have hurt my leg when I fell when I was trying to grab a frisbee a few minutes ago."

I go to her locker, then grab her backpack. "Did you put all of your books in here already?" I ask her. She nods her head. I put her backpack on my left shoulder, and my own backpack on my right shoulder. Then, I grab her by the waist and legs.

"Where are you taking me?" she asks, leaning her head into my chest.

"To the bus, and then home to where I can get you some first aid stuff. It's easier than going to the school nurse," I briefly explain.

"Plus _you _can take care of me then," Jazmine adds on. I smile for only a moment, then turn back to my signature scowl. Jazmine was really something else.

_**3:00pm**_

_**Deep Woods Lane**_

_**Woodcrest, Maryland**_

_**Cindy's POV:**_

"Aye, Cin'… if you need anything, _do _call me. Aiight, girl?" Riley assures me of his support. Lord knows I was probably going to be back at the Freeman's house again tonight so that I could take Riley to the basketball court. The basketball court—the only one in Woodcrest—was my and Riley's spot, just like Huey and Jazmine had their spot under the tree on top of the hill.

I had been thinking about Miss Tiffany's lesson in my Sex-Ed (aka Life Skills) class yesterday, and so far, there had been examples of when I or the people around me have been aggressive, passive, or passive aggressive. And all three behaviors were about to happen real quick once I had to confront my dad.

I had forgotten my key at home, in my room, so I had to ring the doorbell of my home.

My dad answers the door, then looks me up and down.

I just pray that my little brother, Corbin, is home from school already.

"Well, well, well, Cynthia… you forgot your key at home _again_? Just like your mother, always leaving _shit _behind… I just hope you won't get into the whore business like her. But the road you're going down, being friends with all those poor Whites and colored folks, I wouldn't be too surprised," he condescendingly looks down upon me—both psychically and with his words.

"Nice to see you, too…" I murmur under my breath.

"What was that, dear Cynthia?" he questions me. He tightly and forcefully grabs my arm when I try to pass him. Because of this action and what I know he's done in the past, I coward down.

"I said I know, father," I respond, looking down at the ground. He strikes me heavily across my left cheek.

"Well if you _know_, then why won't you do something about it?" he asks me, successfully intimidating me. Just then, I hear a small, high pitched, kind of masculine voice.

"Dad! Leave her alone!" Corbin yells. I thank God for my little bro everyday.

My devilish father releases me, then stares Corbin down. He knows that if Corbin dare speak up and tell authorities, he's losing all of his money and his reputation.

Then my father goes upstairs, leaving us two alone.

"Cindy, I swear—just give me the okay," Corbin pleads, "I want to get you some help!"

"I don't want people to know, Corby. The only help I need is Riley's… you got my keys?" I ask him. He throws my navy blue keychain and I catch it in my hands.

"I'll be back later, okay?" I confirm with him. I head to the door and open it, but then hear Corbin call something out.

"You might wanna take this," he advises me, extending his hand. I look down to see a light blue scarf entwined in his fingers. I take it from him, smile, and then close the door behind me. I walk a few blocks down, wrapping the scarf around my face all the while so that my newly formed bruise will be hidden.

I turn on Timid Deer Lane, then knock on the front door of the Freemen Residence. Mr. Freeman answers.

"Why, hello, Cutie Pie," he greets me. "Was it cold at your house or something? Haha," he adds, laughing a bit at my attire.

"Something like that," I blow it off. "Is Riley upstairs?" I ask.

"Either that or that ungrateful ass nigga is busting his ass on my toilet again, all fucking up _my _plumbing bill!" Granddad turns his head towards the staircase so that Riley can hear his screams.

"Chill, Granddad!" Riley calls back. "Just let Cindy come upstairs!"

"Alright, now… but if I hear any _sensual _noises from your room, I'll be coming up there and whooping your ass, boy!" Granddad continues to yell. Then he leans over to whisper into my ear. "I'm more concerned about Riley's ass than you. But get up there, now, Cutie Pie." I laugh at Granddad and head up the stairs.

Years later, Riley and Huey still shared a room. The only thing that had really changed was that Riley was just _a little bit _more tidy than he was at age eight. But besides that, nothing really had changed.

I open up the door to face Riley. Huey was nowhere to be seen, so it was safe to assume that he was still helping Jazmine at her house about her slightly injured knee.

"Close the door and take that scarf off, girl," He orders me. I follow his first command, but not the second. Then, I go over to his bed to sit next to him. He looks at me like I'm crazy, laughing a bit as he swipes my scarf off of my face.

His smile soon falters, and his eyes widen when he discovers my fresh bruise.

"Cin'…" is all that comes out his mouth.

I cry in his arms, and he holds me tight…

…I cry in his arms, and he holds me tight.

**A/N: okay so this got serious at the end! I've created kind of deep backgrounds for everyone (and written them down on paper and stuck the papers in a folder so I don't forget or lose them!) but Cindy by far has either one of the deepest backgrounds, if not the deepest. And because of how serious it is, I wanted to introduce her home issues first. Everyone else's will be out there shortly, but I need continuous drama and sadness and happiness and all that good stuff.**

**Anyways, I'm just glad I got this out there!**

**I was home sick yesterday and today, so I have hella homework to catch up on and missed two tests, but I got to write and didn't have a lot of Writer's Block, so that's great!**

**I'll try to get some other stuff out there soon, but no promises. I hate to disappoint lol.**


End file.
